#marks on your soul au

[minty-mumbles]

Marks on Your Body, Marks on Your Soul

Summary: Wind was part of the largest soulmate group that Outset Island had seen in nearly a century. There were eight people in his soulgroup. Nine, including him. Eight corresponding little marks were inked onto the skin of his forearm. Eight precious marks that symbolized that he was going to be so, so loved.

(Read on AO3 here) (There's also a bonus Warriors angst scene in the notes that I couldn't fit into the fic)

~~~

Wind was part of the largest soulmate group that Outset Island had seen in nearly a century. There were eight people in his soulgroup. Nine, including him. Eight corresponding little marks were inked onto the skin of his forearm. Eight precious marks that symbolized that he was going to be so, so loved.

In another rarity, not one of his eight soulmates lived on Outset Island. It was a small island, and while Wind hadn’t seen everyone’s soulmarks- some people liked to keep them private- they wouldn’t have been able to keep it a secret. Everyone knew everyones’ business on Outset. If one of the island’s residents was one of Wind’s soulmates, the rumors of someone else with eight soulmarks would have spread to him when he was still a young child.

So, Wind was an anomaly, but he didn’t mind. Those eight little marks that symbolized his soulmates were something to be cherished, even if they made him an oddity.

His first soul mark, the one nearest to his hand, was some kind of red bird with its wings stretched wide in flight. Wind had never seen a bird like that before, and even his Granny didn’t recognize it. Wind thought it must mean that this soulmate was from some faraway island with animals and birds that no one on Outset Island had ever seen before.

The next seemed to be a coin of some sort. It was split into four sections, with each section a different color, green, blue, red, and purple. It looked nothing like the rupees Wind was familiar with, but maybe this soulmate was from a distant land too?

Below the coin was a simple blue ocarina. Wind wondered what it meant or symbolized, Perhaps they were a musician? Wind had always smiled at the thought. He always loved listening to music, even if he couldn’t play an instrument himself. Maybe his soulmate would teach him how to play!

Next was a profile of the dog's head, thrown back and mouth open as if caught in the moment of a triumphant howl. (Something had always rubbed him wrong, thinking about this mark as a dog. It looked like a dog, but something about that seemed off to Wind. This animal was no tame beast.)

The next mark was a small pink rabbit, sitting up on its hind legs. Wind’s Granny had cooed over this particular mark plenty of times when he was a child, remarking that whoever it belonged to must be a very kind individual. Wind wasn’t so sure about that, the rabbit might be cute, but the way it defiantly stared back at Wind made him think twice about calling this soulmate soft.

Below the rabbit was a picture of a fairy. It was green, which was an unusual color for a fairy, but other than that looked pretty standard. Maybe this soulmate was a healer?

Next was a silver sword, wrapped in a piece of blue fabric. It was the most cryptic mark of them all, revealing the least about the person it belonged to, other than the fact perhaps they were good at fighting. Wind wondered, often, what the blue fabric symbolized.

The last mark, which was nearly nestled into the crook of his elbow, was a bow with an arrow drawn and ready to fire. When Wind had been young, he’d thought the mark was laid over a background of red. When he’d grown up, though, he realized that it wasn't simply a background of red, it was blood, a large splatter of blood. That mark had always made his Granny nervous, but it had never bothered Wind.

He’d spent long hours staring at these marks in wonder as he grew up. Daydreams of what his soulmates would be like were constant. Every time a ship arrived at Outset with new people aboard, Wind would be there, trying to sneak a glimpse of their forearms. Even the trading ships that came biweekly would draw Wind down to the docks, just in case there was someone new aboard he hadn’t met before- someone who shared seven of the same marks with him. 

Of course, if his marks were romantic none of the sailors would ever be his soulmates as they were much older than Wind. But with such a large soulgroup, odds were that his bonds were platonic, and there were no age restrictions for platonic soulmates.

~~~

With such a large group of soulmates, Wind couldn’t just refer to them as “his soulmates.” It quickly became cumbersome, when speaking about his soulmarks, to constantly have to clarify which one he meant. It didn’t take long for him to come up with nicknames. 

It wasn’t a strange thing to do, especially for those who had more than one soulmark.

Feathers, for the red bird. Then Coin, Ocarina, and Doggy, which soon evolved into Dog as he grew older. Bunny, which quickly became Rabbit. 

Flicker for the fairy, after that way fairies flitted around when they flew, and the way their light would flicker like a candle. And finally, Sword and Bow. Most of the nicknames were simplistic and not at all creative but Wind had been four when he’d made them, so he cut himself some slack. 

~~~

When Wind is seven, Dog’s soulmark changes. 

It’s an insane thing to say- soulmarks don’t change. The only change that a mark should ever undergo was fading away to gray when your soulmate died. Other than that, they were set in stone. 

But it was undeniable. One day when he went to sleep, the mark was of a brown dog. When he woke up, the dog was gray, with new markings that hadn’t been there before. Startled by the change, he ran to show his Granny. 

At first, she’d been horrified to hear her grandchild shouting about a changed soumark and see unexpected gray on his arm. But it soon became apparent that the mark had not faded to death-gray. The eyes of the animal were still a brilliant blue.

His Granny had scrubbed at his forearm in a basin of water so hard his arm had turned red. When she finally admitted that the mark truly had changed, and Wind hadn’t simply managed to color it somehow, she had insisted he not tell anyone of this development, not even his little sister. 

Frightened by her intensity, Wind had agreed. 

Granny inspected his marks daily after that. It took months for her to be satisfied they would stay the way they were. 

~~~

A year later, Wind noticed that Flicker’s mark had changed as well. Previously, it had been a simple fairy. Now, the yellow symbol of the triforce glimmered faintly from the center of the fairy’s glow. It was barely noticeable unless you squinted. 

Wind, remembering how Granny had fretted and stressed over Dog’s soulmark, kept his mouth shut. The yellow of the triforce was so subtle that no one who wasn’t closely inspecting it would notice it, so he was able to keep this new change secret, even from his grandmother.

~~~

The night before Wind turned twelve, he lay awake shivering in bed. It wasn’t a cold night- quite the opposite, in fact. 

But something felt… wrong.

It felt like someone was watching him. He’d checked and it wasn’t Arryl, who was deeply asleep. Granny was sleeping in the other room, so it wasn’t her. Still, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was very wrong.

With nothing to justify the dread he was feeling, Wind lay awake in bed, unable to sleep. He drew his blanket over his head like he was five again and hiding from monsters. The feeling of dread persisted, not allowing him to slip into the comfort of sleep.

As his mind often did in quiet, solitary moments like these, it turned toward the topic of his soulmarks. Since the changes in two of his marks nearly six years ago, he’d grown to understand just how strange the fact that his marks had changed was.

Wind had never heard of anyone’s marks changing. When he was eight, he’d gotten it in his mind to run around Outset Island and ask everyone he could find if they’d ever heard stories about soulmarks changing. The answers were always a resounding no.

When Granny had eventually heard what he’d been doing, she'd given him a stern reprimand. He understood now why she was so strict about not telling people that his marks had changed. People weren’t kind to those they saw as different or strange. It was probably a very fortunate thing no one had ever noticed the change in his marks. 

Wind didn’t know what people would do if they noticed, but he couldn’t imagine it would be pretty. 

Wind worried about his marks often. He worried about what might happen if someone noticed that two of them had changed. (Unlikely after all this time, but all it would take was one person who had been there when Wind was born and had inspected his marks asking why the dog wasn’t brown like they remembered.) 

He worried about what it meant that Dog and Flicker’s marks had changed. Was it possible that they would change again in the future? Would his other marks change? Was it possible that the marks had changed because the gods had messed up his marks, and maybe he wasn’t meant to be with these soulmates after all?

Wind had nightmares, sometimes. That one day he would wake up and his marks would be gone. That he would meet his soulmates, and they wouldn't have any mark representing him on their forearms. 

He tried his best to ignore those dreams.

When midnight had long since come and gone and the feeling of dread and anticipation still haunted him, Wind thought it might be a good idea to clear his head. The night air might help. Maybe he should head to the lookout, he thought. He would be able to watch the stars easier from there, and no one would bother him if he ended up falling asleep. 

~~~

Wind turned twelve, and everything went horribly, utterly wrong. 

After Arryl had been taken and he’d set out on his quest to save her, Wind hadn’t bothered to look at his soulmarks much. He didn’t forget they were there! No one could forget their soulmates. 

It was just… they’d become less important in the face of the possibility of losing his sister. She was out there, possibly in danger, possibly dead, and Wind was pretty sure his soulmarks weren’t going to go away anytime soon. He hadn’t even met any of them yet. He couldn’t afford to spend his time thinking about them when he didn’t even know what they looked like.

Then he’d gone to Fire Mountain to get the power bracelets. 

Even with the aid of the ice arrows that kept the volcano from erupting, the heat was nearly unbearable. It felt like if he stayed on the island for too long, the very air itself would burn his skin.

That didn’t happen, thankfully. But what did happen was almost worse.

Fighting off the fire bats so he could reach the power bracelets had been the most annoying part of the island. There were several of them, coming one right after another, but they weren’t that strong. He’d been careless, more focused on avoiding plunging himself into lava than the swooping bats overhead.

His carelessness had earned him a few burns. He hadn’t thought much about the burns at the time besides pushing away the pain. Getting the power bracelets and getting out before the ice arrows wore off was more important than fussing over some small injuries. 

Later, when his adrenaline had faded and he was safe enough to look over his injuries, he realized where exactly the burns were, and Wind had never felt more horrified and sick to his stomach in his life. The burn wrapped around the back of Wind’s left arm. One edge of the burned skin stopped less than a quarter of an inch away from Rabbit’s mark. 

Wind ended up using the only fairy he had to heal the burns. It was a waste of resources, probably, but Wind couldn't help it. He hadn’t wanted to heal it naturally and risk infection or something similar worsening the injury. He couldn’t live with the possibility of it leaving a scar. He couldn’t risk it. Not so close to one of his marks.

What would happen if the burn had been placed just a few inches to the right? It could have ruined Rabbit’s mark. It wouldn’t have affected his bond with his soulmate. 

He’d heard stories about people whose marks got burned off or scarred over before- it wasn’t something that was unheard of. In many of the stories, the injured party still managed to find their soulmate in the end, but it was more difficult to do so when you didn’t have a mark for your soulmate to identify with. It left the burden of finding your soulmate entirely on you, saddling you with the responsibility of recognizing the mark that represented you. 

It also left you with no way to tell if your soulmate had died. 

After that, Wind started to pay more attention while he fought. He was more careful with guarding his left arm, and he inspected his marks more often. Just as reassurance. Just to remind him that even if everything went wrong, somewhere out in the world there were eight people waiting for him. 

~~~

It was this new caution that led him to discover an interesting quirk of Coin’s soulmark. Wind was sure this was a recent development, as he would have noticed this when he was a kid and still enamored with his soulmarks. 

Wind had never heard of anything like this happening, but… his fourth soulmark changed, sometimes. He was sure of it- had even seen it happen once. The difference was so small that no one besides himself would ever notice, and he kept his mouth shut about it. 

He knew two of his other marks had changed when he was little, but for the most part, Wind was able to delude himself. Perhaps he had misremembered the color of the dog or had simply never noticed the triforce hidden in the green fairy until he was eight. Perhaps those marks hadn’t changed at all. 

But this…

He couldn’t lie to himself about this.

He didn’t know what it meant, but every so often, the four sections of the coin would separate, showing the smallest sliver of his skin between the marks, clearly showing that there were four separate soulmarks instead of the usual one.

He didn’t know what it meant, but the mark always fused back together eventually, so Wind hoped everything would be fine. It was just one more thing to ask his soulmates about when he finally found them. 

In his mind, Wind started thinking that having eleven soulmates instead of eight would be pretty cool, if a little overwhelming, but he kept that thought to himself.

(If he started having nightmares about his faceless soulmate getting ripped limb from limb until they were torn into four pieces and left in a bloody pile, then he kept that to himself, too)

~~~

When Wind discovered that Bow’s mark had gone gray, it was the worst hours of his life.

He’d checked his marks over carefully in the morning- noting that the second mark was once again split into four- and had been satisfied with them. They were all as they should be. They had been free of blemishes, with colors just as vibrant as they had been the night before.

Later that morning, Wind was working on tying up the sail on his little boat. The storm clouds on the horizon didn't look promising, and he needed to get the rigging all tied down before the storm hit. As he gave one last tug on the rope, he happened to catch a glimpse of his forearm, and the sight of gray near his elbow startled him completely out of his concentration. 

Dropping the rope he’d been using to secure the sails, Wind grasped at his arm. His eyes hadn’t been deceiving him- his last mark was no longer bright and colorful. The bright red of the blood and the brown of the bow had been leached away, leaving the mark a sickly gray.

Breath caught in his throat and he staggered, a soft keen escaped him without permission.

He’d heard of this happening before- marks fading to death-gray before a person had even met their soulmate. It was always a sad tale when someone was killed before their time, and left behind grieving partners who didn’t even have a name or face to go with the gray mark.

And now Wind would be one of those people, forever left wondering about that last mark. It would stay with him for the rest of his life, a horrible reminder of the pain his soulmate no doubt suffered before their untimely death.

Wind didn’t know how long the mark had been gray by the time he noticed. How long had one of his soulmates been gone from this world, while he had remained blissfully unaware? 

His heart sank into his stomach as he slowly sank to his knees. He felt more alone than he ever has, alone on his boat. His sister was gone, his Granny unconsolable to the point of being nearly unresponsive, he hadn't met any of his soulmates, and one of them was dead.

Wind sat alone in the bottom of his boat, the rain beating against his form. The waves were tall. Wind could faintly feel them tossing the boat around, but couldn’t muster up the energy to care. 

Let the waves take him. What was the point? One of his soulmates was gone! Before Wind had even gotten the chance to meet them, they were gone. 

In the dim light of the storm, everything looked gray, so it took a while to realize that the bow mark was changing again. The realization came to Wind slowly as he stared at his arm blankly but when it did, Wind whined, squeezing his eyes shut.

Why couldn't the gods just let him be? Why did his marks keep changing? Were his soulmates with monsters? Shifting abominable creatures that couldn't stay consistent even after they died? Were the gods refusing to let his soulmate rest even after they died? 

Why why why? 

It took even longer for Wind to gain the courage to open his eyes and look at the marks again. When he did, it registered that the mark wasn’t simply changing. It was regaining its color.

The relief that slammed into Wind was what finally broke the dam in his mind. The numbness that had crashed over him when he realized that one of his marks had faded finally broke, and Wind cried. He cried from the relief, the pain, the worry, panic, and grief he’d felt. 

Wind wondered if any of his other soulmates had noticed that the Bow had gone gray. Had Rabbit cried? Did Feather drop whatever they were doing to find a private place to grieve? Had Blue screamed when they saw?

By the time Wind had uncurled and started taking in the outside world again, the storm had long since passed. The King of Red Lions was able to guide the boat through the treacherous waves safely, but without Wind’s help, they’d been blown miles off course. Wind didn’t even care. 

His soulmate was safe- safe, safe, safe, they were safe, he had the mark to prove it- and alive. That was all Wind needed to know.

Most of the rest of the day was spent clutching at his forearm and staring at the last mark in alternating horror and relief. Slowly, the horror abated, leaving a sharp flash of indignant anger in its wake. 

How dare one of Wind’s soulmates nearly die before meeting him? That was totally unfair of them. Wind was so going to punch them in the arm when they met as payback for scaring him so much.

~~~

For once, Wind hadn’t heard of the arrival of a new ship before it made landfall on Outset Island. He was notified by a kid running up to Granny’s house in the morning, yelling something and banging excitedly on the door. 

Wind was the one to open the door, looking down at the kid in confusion. He’d seen him before, running around the island, but couldn’t for the life of him remember the kid’s name.

As far as Wind knew, they weren’t expecting any visitors. It was late afternoon, early enough to assume everyone would be awake, but still too early to be calling on your neighbors without giving warning. Scenarios of pirates (the unhonorable kind) attacking the island, or someone getting hurt or even dying flooded Wind’s mind. Anything that would make someone come calling this early.

At the unasked question in Wind’s eyes, the kid, who was nearly shaking in excitement nearly yelled that there was a strange group of people on the island, and that they were looking for him.

When the kid finally got around to saying the group consisted of eight people, a shock of anxiety shot through Wind. Was it possible? After all this time? 

Wind was still only fourteen and all told, that was a young age to meet all your soulmates, but Wind felt so much older. He’d been through so much, sometimes he felt ancient. And he’d done it all without the aid of his soulmates. 

It would be strange to finally meet them now, if these strangers truly were his soulmates. 

The kid was still looking at him expectantly, eyes wide in excitement. Everyone on Outset knew about Wind’s soulmates. Even if they hadn’t gotten a good look at Wind’s soulmarks, they knew. Having a group of soulmarks that big was going to make you a constant source of gossip. 

The gossip could have spread beyond Outset, and if there was a soulgroup of eight looking for their ninth soulmate, those rumors might have been enough to bring them here.

Wind did his best to keep a straight face, even as he was screaming inside. It probably didn’t work. Granny had always said he had a horrible poker face, and she was right. There was no way that he could hide the shock, hope, and excitement that crossed his face.

Wind quickly thanked the kid and slammed the door shut, but not before the kid ran off, no doubt to spread the gossip to everyone else on the island. Shoving the thought out of his mind, Wind ran to put on some acceptable clothes. There was no way he was meeting people who might be his soulmates while he was still in his pajamas. 

He tore through the house to his and Arryl’s room, earring a shocked exclamation from Granny, who was sitting in the main room working on her knitting. Wind ignored her questions about who was at the door. 

Arryl- who was still asleep after staying up too late last night- murmured sleepily as Wind slammed the door open, but was quickly soothed back to sleep by his assurances. It took Wind longer than it usually did for him to choose what to wear that day. He had to look nice if he was going to meet his soulmates.

By the time he ran back out of the room, his Granny no longer looked confused. No doubt more of their neighbors had stopped by to inform her of the news. The people on Outset might be gossipers, but Wind also silently thanked them. Outset wasn’t a very large island, and it shouldn’t have taken this long for the group to find him if they were really looking. Someone probably decided to take pity on him and send them in the wrong direction to give him a bit more time to prepare.

Of course, this was all assuming that they truly were his soulmates. There was a possibility that it was a complete coincidence that eight strangers no one on the island had ever seen before were looking for him specifically.

Yeah, even in his head, that sounded unlikely.

Even with helpful neighbors and getting dressed quickly as he could, when he stepped outside, a group of strangers was already coming up the path.

They stopped a good bit away from Granny’s house huddling together. Wind could feel their eyes on him, and his face was betraying his hope and excitement. 

Though the group obviously saw him, they clustered a little ways away, talking about something. Wind winced, his expression falling ever so slightly. Did they not want him now that they’d seen him? 

Each one of the strangers was obviously older than him- if these were his soulmates, he would be the youngest person in the group. Even the smallest of the group, someone in a colorful tunic who was shorter than Wind, looked to be older than he was. Were they disappointed their last soulmate was young?

On top of that, every member of the group was heavily armed, even if it wasn’t obvious. Most of them had a sword strapped to their back and several other weapons besides that. The magic that Wind could sense from them even at this distance told him they had more than enough hidden defenses as well.

Even the one in a blue tunic- who carried no sword- was armed with a bow and quiver. More excitement filled Wind as he realized that the bowman was heavily scarred. The kind of scars that come from injuries that might kill you. (And then there was guilt that he felt excited that someone had suffered.)

Breath stuttered in Wind’s chest, and he was nearly bouncing on the balls of his feet. Still, he didn't approach. He would let them do that. Because what if Wind was wrong, and these weren’t his soulmates after all? Arryl would never let him live it down if he ran up to a bunch of people just assuming they were his soulmates. That would just be embarrassing.

After a few more moments of Wind barely being able to contain himself, one of the strangers peeled away from the group. The others mingled together, talking but still obviously keeping an eye on Wind.

The man who approached was wearing armor- a pauldron and chainmail. Wind wondered about that for a split second. Even people who were going to be fighting often opted for padded cloth or leather armor, not heavy plate or chain that could cause you to sink like a rock if you were knocked into the water.

The thing that really caught Wind’s attention, though, was the blue scarf that was wrapped around the man’s neck. 

A blue scarf, or in other words, a blue scrap of fabric.

Sword.

Wind’s hand drifted up instinctively to rub at his marks, feeling a bright grin break outacross his face. The sleeve of his undertunic was in the way, but that man seemed to catch the motion anyways.

In seconds, the man who was almost certainly one of Wind’s soulmates stood in front of him. His smile was confident as he held out a hand expectantly to Wind. Despite his confidence, Wind could feel his hesitance. 

There was an unspoken understanding between them now. They both thought that they were each other's soulmate, and that the rest of the group behind the man was the rest of Wind’s soulgroup. But there was only one way to know, and although there wasn’t anything wrong with not covering your soulmarks, asking flat out to see them if you weren’t someone's soulmate was a very violating question.

Wind hesitantly held out his arm, using his other arm to push up his sleeve. 

The man instantly relaxed at the sight, the tenseness in his shoulders melting away. Joy and relief spread across his features as Wind watched the man’s eyes (as Wind watched his soulmate’s eyes!) trail down the line of soulmarks until he reached Sword’s mark. 

Until he reached his mark.

Wind watched a shiver go up the man’s spine. Wind had heard countless tales of what it was like to see the soulmark that represented you for the first time, and now he was witnessing it in real life.

The stranger-who-wasn't-a-stranger smiled at him, warm affection filling his eyes. Then he spoke for the first time, the words tender. “There you are, little seagull. We’ve been searching everywhere for you.”

[mayashesfly]

Soulmate AU wherein your Soulmate refers to someone who you will encounter in your life when you need it and would become an important part of it.

No romantic connotations. Or sexual.

It doesn't have to be familial, platonic, romantic, or sexual. Just that that person would be important in one way or another.

Maybe they'll be your friend. Or your partner. Or a stranger that'll change your worldview at the right moment.

Just someone you needed at the right time.

Whether it'll be permanent or fleeting depends.

For Vox it was Alastor. And for Valentino it was Vox. Alastor on the other hand? ...he doesn't know... It's hard to say.

Perhaps it's his mother. Or maybe someone else. Maybe even Rosie. If it was Vox well.... it certainly isn't permanent now is it?

[constellation-skirmishes]

luke finds a MSE-6 one day and decides to repair her for padme. he names the droid 'emmy'

l: emmy's almost done! i just need to finish tweaking a few things, but soon she'll be up and running like a kryat in her nest!

then you won't have to be alone when i'm not here!

[specialagentartemis]

Grade a fanfic trope meme - soulmates because I feel like I know what the answer will be, but hard mode, is there any variation or twist on this trope that would make you grade it higher

For the fanfic trope ask game

[F] Hated these for a long time. I only ever saw one type: you have one, fated soulmate, and it is a romantic partner, and even when I liked the ship in question it sucked the fun out of everything. Both because of the idea that amatonormativity is a divine law of the universe which is an inherently horror concept to me played off as nice and cute, and that it was a contrived shortcut to get over the whole "actually building a relationship" part. Boo. Also, under the surface and never addressed, All Soulmate AUs Are Inherently Dubcon. You Do Not Get A Choice.

However,

[C] I turn out to be able to quite like variants where 1) you can and usually do have multiple soulmates, 2) it reflects all sorts of different important relationships in your life, not just One Romantic One, and crucially 3) the soulmate soulmarks are more reactive rather than predictive. React to the person you have become and the person they have become, meshing. Soulmates as compatibilistic time travel. Your soul recognizing itself across time and leaving a tangible mark on your body. We played with that in Wolf 359 a little, and in Murderbot fandom bringing the strong a-spec and self-determination themes of the series into it, in ways that make me go, I can see something interesting and compelling in this. I actually have half a fanfiction sitting in WIP drafts that was a conscious effort to grapple with my ambivalence with the trope, find a way to make it feel like something amorally natural rather than insidiously horrifying. (Part of it is having a character who hates the whole idea and rejects them rather than thinking soulmates are of course the Best Thing Ever! And another who comes from a culture who tattoo over soulmarks the moment they appear - each tattoo representing someone in your life who is/is going to be very important to you, but you don't feel deterministically compelled to Make It Happen.)

So deep down the twist to make me grade it higher is anthropological worldbuilding and Ted Chiang's time travel philosophy lol. Okay, if that's true, how does it affect the world and society? Who cares about shipping I'm here for WORLDBUILDING and METAPHYSICS

[starseternelle]

a kiss on the inside of the wrist. ( modern!au bike ride vibes ) // @nightstriumph

__________🏹      CAREFULLY,        SHE     COMES     TO     STRADDLE        THE     BIKE     BEHIND     HIM.        his   smile,     thrown   casually   over   his   shoulder,     is   still   enough   to   leave   her   as   breathless   as   the   first   night   she   met   him.        she    could    have    never    known    then    just    what    he'd    come    to    mean.     once   she's   satisified   she's   balanced,     she   feels   him   reach   back   to   gently   grab   her   arm    &&    place   a   kiss   against   her   inner   wrist.     right    over    where    her    archer's    arrow    tattoo    lies    inked    into    her    skin     (     he's   joked   it's   pierced   him   straight   through   the   heart.     a   wound   he'd   gladly   take     again    &&    again        )     she's   lost   to   him   for   a   moment,     even   as   he   reminds   her   to   put   her   helmet   on   &&    with   one   final   look   back,     violet   eyes   reflecting   underneath   his   visor,     remember    to    hold    on    this    time.     she   instinctively   reaches   out   to   tap   his   own   helmet in protest,        but   he   takes   off   too   fast.      she    leans    forward,     arms    wrapping    around    his    middle    to    keep    from    falling    off.        though   it's   lost   to   the   wind,        she   can   almost   swear   she   hears   his   laughter   echoing   through   his   chest   as   they   leave   the   city   behind   them.

[falling-endlessly]

The Finer Things in Death

Alastor x Soulmate!Female!Reader

Summary: An AU where your soulmate's first words to you are tattooed on your body in their handwriting.

Oh dear, where's your smile?

You knew those words by heart. Could recite them backwards, in your sleep even. Those damning words have been inscribed on the inside of your ankle for as long as you could remember, the elegant cursive strokes poking out of your shoe line.

In theory, somewhere, someone else was supposed to be sporting your own neat, boxy handwriting. You'd say you lucked out with yours. Some soul marks were less than pleasant, and others were downright embarrassing (imagine having the words move, asshole written on your stomach for the rest of your life. No thank you).

At least your soulmate was trying to cheer you up, right?

Yeah, but there was just one teeny, tiny problem.

Your soulmate was dead. Long dead actually.

Were they stillborn? Did their toddler self die in a house fire or something? Night after night you laid awake in your bed, pondering what the hell could have possibly happened to have altered the entire course of fate.

All you really knew was that your soul mark was a light gray (indicating a severed bond) instead of the usual inky black, and it had been since the day you were born. Everyone was in shock to see the faint words on your little ankle. After all, how could a soul mark exist if the other person wasn't even alive to speak those words into existence?

Simply put, you were a conundrum, and it had been some time since you had dedicated effort into figuring out why? You'd accepted it. Your soulmate was dead. Life went on.

Besides, you'd spent enough time grieving over someone you'd never met before.

Your lifestyle was not extravagant by any means, but it was comfortable. You had a steady income, lived on your own in an apartment in the city, and survived off of more than ramen bowls. Every day you would come home and read in your little fluffy alcove that you'd built yourself by your window, or pop open a bag of chips (and the occasional bottle of wine, if you were feeling fancy) while you watched the latest crime show releases from your couch.

Yes, so comfortable was your little routine, that you didn't notice the robbery happening in the convenience store you were browsing in, or the stray bullet coming for your head until it was too late. Your skull exploded in a world of pain, eyes rolling back as your body crumpled to the ground.

Dying was an interesting experience, to say the least. Your soul floated from your body, the final notes of music that blasted from your earphones fading into nothingness like the sound of a car driving away.

There was a brief moment where you were struck numb, hovering in the air as you stared down at your glassy eyed corpse, blood pooling alarmingly from the circular shaped hole in your head. You heard screams of the other customers behind you, but they were kind of muffled, like you were underwater.

It didn't last long though, because before you knew what was happening, you felt an almighty tug downwards,  like an anchor had just chained itself to your stomach.

And that was how you ended up in hell. Fun. What were you here for? You had no idea. Maybe God got mad that your teenage self stole a few packs of gummy bears in high school. But a life of eternal damnation and suffering seemed a little harsh, didn't it?

Before you could contemplate the semantics of it though, something...strange happened. Your ankle, right where you'd tried countless times to forget your soul mark existed, was burning like a fucking brand.

You hissed sharply in pain, frantically pulling down your sock to assess the damage. Was the eternal punishment starting already or something? Shit, you had terrible pain tolerance.

But what you saw made you gasp. In fact, you could hardly believe your eyes.

Because in the place of your faded grey soul mark, the letters had been reinvigorated, darkened with a swift hand and—glowing they were glowing holy shit.

"Hah," you huffed in disbelief, shaking your head slowly. "So that was it, huh? I was destined to meet my shitty soulmate in hell this whole fucking time?" You punctuated the last words with a few angry kicks to an unassuming patch of weeds. What a cosmic joke at your existence.

But, like you always did in shitty situations, you gathered all of your raging emotions, stuffed them tightly in a box at the back of your mind, and cooled your head. Freaking out in this place would do you no good.

Turned out hell was pretty much like the world you'd left, except for the fact that you could kill someone on the street and nobody would bat an eye. Like all of the depraved aspects of humanity were on full display now in a somehow still functioning society.

You managed to snag a job at an old record store, the owner giving you one look before grunting and gesturing to the register—but not before lifting his jacket to show you the long assault riffle strapped across his chest. Yeesh, you got the message.

It wasn't a bad job by any means, especially considering where you were. Sure a little boring and monotonous, but you'd restock thousands of old albums if it meant staying away from the overlords.

Oh, yeah, another thing. Overlords were like the big shots around hell. Messing with them usually meant a death sentence, or worse, a contract.

And if there was anything at all that you picked up from all those nights of watching television, it was that you do not make deals with the devil. Really, elementary level shit. And you'd never actually seen Lucifer, mind you, but these demons were probably a close second, right?

Yeah, so really, you were just living a shittier variant of your life on earth it seemed. Repetitive, safe and comforting. You were even starting to like the scent of musty cardboard, as weird as that was.

And once again, all thoughts of your soulmate slipped your mind.

Until one day, when everything went to shit.

****

It started like this: with the sad sight of your empty fridge.

You groaned, dragging a tired hand down your face. Seriously? You thought you'd restocked already, damn it. 

Your stomach growled achingly, and you sighed, wondering if you'd actually die again if you starved yourself. Begrudgingly, you decided that you didn't really want to chance it, throwing on the first set of clothes that you saw and slipping out of your dingy apartment to make a quick grocery run.

You generally hated leaving your apartment, and didn't do so except to retrieve bare necessities or walk across the block to go to work.

Why? Well, see exhibit A to your left: some poor, random demon screeching and running around on fire. See exhibit B to your right: a turf war between two rival gangs. And finally how could you forget, cannibal colony, slurping up intestines like bloody, chunky spaghetti. Disgusting.

The worst thing about hell wasn't the fact that you were in hell, it was the fact that the worst of the worst people were all cramped together like some fucked up refugee camp, and some people were significantly worse than others. Which sucked, for the poor unfortunate souls just trying to get by. Like you.

You sighed, ducking under a stray stream of bullets (you weren't falling for that shit twice) and side stepping pools of blood and guts. Just a regular Monday morning in hell. God damn it.

It seemed luck wasn't on your side though, because an ugly, dog-headed demon blocked your path, sneering down at you smugly. "Hey bitch, it's your lucky day. The big boss is hiring, and you fit the profile."

You clenched your grocery bags in a white-knuckled grip. Nobody would give a flying fuck if you were dragged off of the street in broad daylight. "Not interested."

"Oh it wasn't a suggestion," he chuckled darkly. You tensed as you were surrounded by at least four other demons. Shit, you knew you should have slept in.

"You like apples?" You nodded sharply at the demon in charge.

His face twisted in annoyance. "Why the fuck do y—"

You reached into your bag, before hurling a granny smith straight at his forehead. He yelped as it made contact, stumbling back as he shook his head in confusion. While everyone was still in shock from your weapon of choice, you shoved your way out of the circle, gunning it straight down the street because your second life did depend on it.

"Get her!" You heard a yell of absolute rage, making you shiver. Fuck, that did not sound promising. That apple must have really pissed him off.

Putting your limited aerobics to use, you ducked, dodged and lunged through the crowd like a pro. Your heart pounded wildly in your chest, air burning your lungs as you pumped your legs faster. But of course, your grocery bag ripped open, sending all of your food tumbling and you by extension, tripping and face planting in the dirt rather pathetically.

A meaty hand gripped a handful of your hair, yanking it up harshly. You cried out as he pulled, hands uselessly trying to smack his away, but his hold only tightened. A liquor-filled breath and cheap cologne invaded your senses, making you cough.

"Uppity bitch," he growled, giving your scalp a painful yank for good measure. "You actually thought you could get away? Maybe I should teach you a lesson, huh? Sample the goods."

You froze, every nerve in your body going cold. So far in your stay in hell, you'd managed to avoid the more depraved souls here. You kept your head down, didn't draw attention to yourself, and were mostly left alone. Looked like today, your luck had finally run out.

"Get the hell off of me!" You spat, twisting around vehemently, only for your head to snap to the side as you were harshly backhanded.

"Stop your fucking whining and stay still!" He snapped, narrowing his eyes.

You bared your teeth, snapping at him aggressively.

A round of mocking chuckles went around the group of your kidnappers, the one holding your hair giving you a wicked grin. "Shit, that was cute. Really—"

He didn't get to finish his sentence, because his head exploded. Literally exploded, blood and brain matter dripping from your face. His hand went slack, dropping you on your wobbling knees.

Everyone was silent for a second, staring at the bloody mess where the demon was standing two seconds prior.

And that was when you heard it. Static. Loud, crackling and ominous.

Your mouth went dry. Shit. Shitty shit shit. You knew what that meant. How could you not? The asshole broadcasted his killings all over hell like a fucking psychopath. And now, it was your turn to become hell's gory entertainment. Fan-fucking-tastic.

You stood frozen, breath stuck in your throat as dark, menacing tendrils slowly curled along the walls. A large, grinning shadow rounded the corner, before the culprit himself stalked into view, razor sharp teeth on display as he tilted his head. "Oh," his grin widened. "Am I interrupting?"

"N-No man," one of the braver demons stuttered, taking a step back. "You can have her—"

Splat.

You turned slowly to face the bloody wall, eyes wide in disbelief.

"How distasteful," the radio demon shook his head. "As if I'd participate in your brainless thuggery. No, no. Unlike you gentlemen, I have class. Truly," his eyes lit up like glowing radio dials, a dark shadowy mass rising behind him as his antlers branched out like a gnarled, rotten tree. "Did your mother never teach you any manners?"

Faster than you could blink, the demons around you were reduced to blood, cartilage and splintered bone. The overwhelming irony scent made you want to gag, but you didn't dare move a muscle, eyes fixated on the terrifying sight before you.

When the radio demon noticed your staring, his smile sharpened, antlers shrinking as he leisurely approached you. Oh no. Nononono.

You struggled to keep from hyperventilating, your body going into shock as he leaned into your personal space. Two bloody fingers pushed into your cheeks, forcing your mouth into a morbid, artificial smile. "Oh dear," he tutted in amusement. "Where's your smile?"

You jerked back violently, eyes wide as icy cold realization washed over you. Dread squeezed your lungs as you stared at the grinning, bloody figure of your soulmate in horror.

The radio demon. Psychopath and mass murderer.

Your soulmate.

What the FUCK.

"T-This," your voice shook. "This is not happening."

There was a sudden screech of radio static, before his own eyes widened. Shit. "What," he said sharply. "Did you just say?"

"A-Ah," you trembled, leaning back. Every single nerve in your body was alight, screaming at you to get the ever-loving fuck away from him.  In what was probably the stupidest and most desperate plan of your life, you pointed over his shoulder fearfully. "Look! Another one!"

As soon as he turned his head, you bolted down the street.

****

You slammed your front door closed behind you, double—triple checking your lock before sliding down to the floor in a panting mess.

Immediately you grew paranoid. What the fuck were you thinking? A lock wouldn't keep the radio demon out. You needed fifty more locks and ten more doors. You needed to barricade yourself inside for the next month. You needed—

"Hello there!" An exuberant voice chirped.

You screamed, throwing the first thing you could grab in his direction. He caught the house slipper, inspecting it in amusement, before tossing it over his shoulder.

"My, did I scare you sweetheart? Apologies," he grinned smugly, relaxing in your recliner with a mug of coffee. Your favorite mug.  

You blinked. What the fuck?

"What are you doing in my house?" You squeaked, fingers digging into your welcome mat.

"Oh dear, allow me to introduce myself," he set the mug down on your coffee table, leisurely rising from the couch and offering a hand. "I'm Alastor! A pleasure to be meeting you sweetheart, quite a pleasure."

You didn't take his hand, instead choosing to gape at him like a dead fish.

He retracted his hand, tilting his head with a shit-eating grin. Twirling his cane, he continued like there wasn't just an awkward and terrifying pause. "I hope you don't mind that I followed you! You see, I believe our conversation was cut a bit...short." His eyes glowed as unidentifiable symbols floated in the air around him.

As quickly as they appeared however, they disappeared like they were never there. Jesus Christ, this man was giving you emotional whiplash. "Anywho!" He perked up again, ever the charming grin on his face. "Enough about me! I've yet to catch your name, darling."

Fuck. You really didn't want to give him your name.

But before you could open your mouth, he leaned closer to you, grin widening ominously. "I hope you're not thinking of lying, my dear. I must say, I'm not very fond of that quality."

"Y-Y/n!" You said quickly, raising your hands to shield your face.

There was a slight pause, before a gentle touch swiped at your cheek, retracting after a moment. You peeked your eye open, only to become vaguely ill at the sight.

"You had a little something on your face," he chuckled in amusement, holding out a clump of brain matter. With a swift flick, it was magicked away.

"What do you want?" You whimpered, overwhelmed with the entire situation.

"Oh dear, is it really that strange for me to want to get to know my soulmate?" He tilted his head, leaning towards you uncomfortably close.

"Y-Yes, actually," you stuttered, trying to look anywhere but his prominent red eyes. "I thought you'd do something more along the lines of...killing and eating me." You shrunk back as his grin widened. "Please don't eat me."

"How morbid, I would never!" He waved it away, like the idea was preposterous. "My word! What awful rumors you've been hearing about me!"

"You frequent cannibal colony and I just saw you tear apart six demons like they were freshly baked bread," you stared at him incredulously. "What hasn't been spot on?"

He paused, before giving you a humoring chuckle. "Well it seems your impression of me needs correcting!" Before you knew what was happening, nimble fingers encircled your wrist, pulling it forward gently. He pressed warm lips to the back of your hand, before giving you a charming grin. "Enchanté, ma chère."

You blinked, breath stuck in your throat. "What—What does that mean?"

"Oh, don't you worry your pretty little head about it!" He gently set your hand down, before pinching your cheek condescendingly. "Well my dear, I'm afraid I have other responsibilities I must attend to!"

He stood up with a flourish, leaning on his microphone cane as he smirked at you. "Not to worry!" He snapped his fingers, and a slim, feminine shadow emerged from the ground. "Missy here will watch over you in my stead."

"What? No, I—"

"I'll be back before you know it!" He offered a chilling smile, before melting into a puddle of shadows.

You gaped at the spot where he once stood, trying to process what the actual fuck just happened. Your gaze slid over to the feminine looking shadow, still standing in the corner of your living room. She grinned at your attention, teeth sharpened.

You closed your eyes, head thumping back against your door in exhaustion. 

"I'm so fucked."

****

Enchanté, ma chère : Charmed, my dear

[tiniestbee]

Drabble/Fic idea based on The Apparition by Sleep Token I will probably never write in the tags 😋👍🏼

[etfrin]

⤷❝Mine To Love | Coriolanus Snow❞ˎˊ-

⇢☾Warning: NSFW | Snow is his own warning, mentions of killing, mentions of caging/locking you up (doesn't do it though), hair pulling, breath play if you squint, creampie, unprotected sex (wrap it dumbfucks), pinv sex, blowjob, male masterbation, cunnilingus, mating press, mentions of Lucy Gray, no spoilers | lmk if I forgot anything!

⇢☾Pairing: young president Snow x fem! Reader

⇢☾Summary: Snow realizing his feelings for you, being fucked up about it and fucks you!

⇢☾A/N: don't romanticize, it's dark romance so y'all are warned! This is set in the same au as The Study (you don't have to read it beforehand but it's recommended)

< masterlist > < bc: @cafekitsune > <tag list>

It started slowly, so slow that Snow didn't even realize it. It started with that night in the study after he had you. He didn't touch you again, denying himself of you. You, his wife, a little bird stuck in a cage. The First Lady of Panem was nothing but a doll, a showcase piece for the country.

You played the role well enough, but you weren't a doll at all. You brought life in what was otherwise a stone-cold mannor. The workers cook your favorite, making sure you're the most well-accommodated. Like a Queen. How their shoulders relax and the smile that springs up when they do the tasks that you assigned them. You earned their respect and their loyalty.

You were dangerous yet harmless. It baffled Coriolanus to no end. It started slow. He coincidentally met you in the hallways more and more. After that night, you couldn't make eye contact with him, no longer did you greet him with an awkward hello or a shy smile.

You look down at the floor whenever he passes you by, your body flushing from the mere second of proximity. So obvious and adorable. He loved how easy you were to read, how open you were. Whatever your lips hide, your eyes show. Whatever your soul hides, your body shows.

It started slow. The monthly dinners with the First Lady turned weekly. Every Sunday now he had you sit across him for dinner and he would ask you about your day. Just to be polite, mind you, don't look into it. He would be annoyed by those one-word answers but would never show it. His fingers subtly grasped the glass of wine tighter than he should, his heart pricking his brain into paranoia. ‘What else?’ he wanted to ask, ‘Stop saying it was good. Tell me what made it good.’

Instead of uttering those words, cameras were placed on every inch of the manner with the audio functions so everything is recorded for his and only his view. He watched you walking through the library, your fingertips touching the spines of the books you already read (which was most of them), you didn't even realize new books were added to the collection, all similar to the ones you liked. He watched you stroll the gardens, your face in a frown at the neverending white roses. A red rose and several other flowers were added the next day.

It started slow. He began to talk about his day more and more trying to fill a silence. He started asking for your opinion and oh, how that lighted your eyes up that you were finally doing what you were meant to do. Supporting him not as a doll but as a wife. You begin to talk about your days more, trusting him with your day-to-day activities. You tell him about friends and family, something he wasn't interested in (he has files on every single person you mentioned).

The nights that were dedicated to his needed sleep turned into the witching hours in which he would stroke his cock over the memory of you. His mouth biting into the pillow to stop his groans, hearing them would mean admitting his need for you and he rejected that notion. His cock was oversensitive because he couldn't stop. He couldn't stop fucking into his fist, again and again thinking about you. Not just your pussy but you. Your desperate moans, your lips marking his neck, your slick walls, and everything of you. Your tears, your head on his chest when he had fucked you. Everything.

He wanted to pin you against a wall. He wanted to bend over during dinner. He wanted you on his lap in his study. He wanted to push you to the bed and fuck you until the bed breaks. He wanted you!

The realization made him spill onto his bed sheets for the nth time. A gasp escaped his lips as he realized how deeply you are rooted in him now. He needed to kill you. He can't afford this again. Whatever this is. Obsession? Love? Was there ever a difference? He needed this to end.

‘You don't deserve to be loved,’ he thinks, you were no Lucy Gray after all, you were different. You could never compare to his first and only (not anymore) love. But he had caged you, he had you and knew your every move. The rumors that spread of cheating were seized along with the man who flirted with you. True to your words, you hadn't fallen to the temptations of the Capitol, rejecting their offers politely rather than basking in their attention like before.

‘Good,’ he thought, he had killed everyone who had touched you and it was hard to hide the evidence. “I am so much better than her,” he muttered, “I could do so much better.” He asked himself, ‘Why? After all the promises I made to myself of never repeating the mistake.’

He didn't get a reply but he dreamt of you.

Breakfast had passed, lunch too, he hadn't seen you once today. A quick peek at his monitors showed that you were sleeping in your room. He clenched his jaw, a part of him hating you for sleeping in because it deprived him of seeing you. A part of his heart warmed because your hair was a mess, the shirt you were wearing while sleeping was his, and you looked so darn pretty.

Coriolanus convinced himself that he was going to your room to wake you up. Nobody should sleep this late into the day. It wasn't healthy, and he needed the First Lady to remain healthy. That was all.

He stepped into the room, his footsteps quiet so he didn't alert you. He sits down on the bed, your sleeping figure beside him. Your mouth had dried drool on the corners which made him disgusted but amusement all the same. His hand went to your cheek, he couldn't control the action of his thumb stroking your cheek.

“I should lock you up forever,” he whispered as softly as possible, almost inaudible. “In this room, so no one can see you but me.”

He knew by now his thoughts weren't normal and it would never be. That's him and he had accepted himself. He leaned in closer, his lips inches away from yours. He stopped right before he closed the gap. He takes a deep breath, taking in your scent before pulling back.

His hand goes to your shoulder, he shakes you. “Wake up, bird,” he said, his eyes softening when he saw you wake up and peer at him with confused eyes. You yawn, and sit up, your eyes wide when you look at him. You rub them with your hand and blink.

“Is there anything wrong, Coryo?” You asked softly, “Anything I can do to help.” “You should shower and eat first,” he said instead, “and next time don't sleep in. I don't like indiscipline.”

“Sorry,” you mutter, “I was finishing a book.” Your eyes flicker to him, “It's nice by the way! I will tell you about it during dinner.” He wanted to hear about it now, he wanted to pull you closer and kiss your lips, he wanted to push you into the mattress and breed you. He wanted to clean you up after and feed you every kind of feed.

He clenched his jaw, trying to get rid of such thoughts. “We'll see,” he said before walking out of the room, accidentally slamming the door. The first sign of Snow losing control.

The second sign of Coriolanus losing control was how his breath hitched when he saw you during dinner. You are wearing yet another one of his shirts (how do you even get your hands on them) and that's it. A white shirt that reached your knees, you had forgone pants and opted for shorts that couldn't even be seen. Your legs were in complete view, the same legs he wanted wrapped around his waist.

He didn't say a single comment even when it was clear you were waiting for one. ‘Were you trying to seduce him?’ he thinks, ‘Or something else.’ He felt paranoid about you wearing his shirt. Did you want him? Want him to bend you over, press your face onto the table and fuck you like you were an animal?

He felt his pants getting tighter from his thoughts, flashes of what he could do to you, what he had done to you. He couldn't focus as you talked during dinner, he made a mental note to watch the cameras later to know the words you had blessed him with.

It hits him like a wave when dinner ends and you come to him with a book. Tabs were spilling out and it was a hardcover of an old classic that he had to read during the academy.

“You once told me that you liked this book, I spent last night annotating it! I did a few finishing touches before dinner…”

That explains your attire, you were busy formatting this gift for him. He took the book from your hand, he wanted to throw it across the room, he wanted to set it on fire. It was now his most precious treasure, more important than Panem itself.

The truth he denied washes over him. Making him take a sharp breath and your eyebrows etch together in concern. He had once a girl dedicate songs for him, now he had a wife dedicating booms for him. ‘It would be a mistake,’ he told himself, ‘It won't be a mistake if I don't repeat the past.’

The desires he shoved at the back of his mind sprang forward and he made a decision. The third sign of Coriolanus surrendering to himself was that he had everyone including the guards leave the dining room. Making your eyes widen from the sudden instruction.

“Is there anything wrong-” you begin to ask before Snow interrupts you. “Here is what's going to happen now. You're gonna be on your knees, you'll take my cock in your mouth and you'll make me cum. Then I will take you to our room and I'll fuck you until you can't remember your name.”

You blink once, twice just staring into his eyes that revealed nothing before you went closer to him and got down on your knees for him. “Like this?” You asked, breathless, your cheeks flushed. He smirked, “Exactly like this, pet.”

“Now part those pretty lips for me,” he said as he unzipped his pants and set his hard cock free. He lets out a chuckle as he sees you eyeing his cock like a long-lost lover. Guess he wasn't the only one thinking about that time.

You part your mouth wide enough for him as he pushes his cock in slowly. No matter how desperate he was a gentleman for his wife. He knew better than to gag you. He stopped when his cock had completely disappeared, his length engulfed into your wet, hot mouth.

He throws back his head as his dick hits the back of your throat. He relishes the sound of your choking around his length. He lets out his groan, trying his hardest not to cum down your throat so soon. His hand is in your hair, keeping you in place like an obedient pet.

You try your best to take in a deep breath as your tongue swirls around his length as much as possible. You weren't the best at blowjobs, but you knew the sloppier the better. Saliva ran down your cheek as you tried your best to focus on his cock underside, your tongue dragging itself across a pulsing vein that reached his cockhead.

You moan around his length as the taste of pre-cum bursts in your mouth. You close your eyes and try your best, bopping your head up and down. You clenched your fist, trying your best not to gag when his cock gets deeper into your throat.

Meanwhile, Snow was a wreck of a man, the heat of your mouth ruining his capability of having coherent thoughts. You were sucking his soul through his dick it seemed to him. His fingers tangled in your locks, gripping your hair tighter as a way to anchor himself to reality.

His blue eyes dilated to almost black as he looks at you taking his cock so well. Like you were made for it. Made for his cock. Made for him. Meant to be his wife, his bird, his pet, and his love. It's destiny, he decided as he pulls you off his cock and uses his suit sleeves to wipe your mouth and chin.

‘Everything leads to this,’ he thought, as he pulled you onto his lap and pressed a kiss to your lips. The saltiness of his taste in your mouth does not deter his tongue from tasting you.

“Go to my- our room,” he whispered to you as he broke the kiss. “I'll be there soon,” he promises as he nuzzles into your neck, his lips kissing your skin. You nod and get off his lap. Your feet drag you into his room.

Meanwhile, Coriolanus takes a deep breath, trying to maintain whatever pathetic excuse of sanity he had held. It didn't work. His cock was hard enough to hurt and his brain made him think. He thinks of removing you, he thinks of keeping you. He thinks of plans to protect you, backup plans to make sure you remain untouched while still maintaining the image of the First Lady. His true possessiveness and obsession flares up in his mind.

‘It won't be a mistake if I don't repeat the past,’ he told himself, repeating that line to his head.

He takes a deep breath, a glance at the cameras shows workers and guards kept the halls clear and you were in his room and on his bed waiting for him. Waiting for him to ravish you as you kept playing with the buttons of the shirt, and your underwear on the floor. Your face was crimson but your lower lip was in a darker shade of red with how much you bitten it because of nervousness.

He lets out a huff of air before adjusting himself accordingly. Coriolanus Snow was many things, gentlemen included and gentlemen don't keep their ladies waiting.

You freeze as he enters the room. You swallow nervously, your fingers pausing on the shirt button you were playing with. He glances at the panties that were on the floor and he gives you a little smirk. “Take it all off, my wife,” he said as his hands worked to undress him. His suit was on the floor, his shirt joining it soon enough.

You have to press your thighs together as you see his skin again, a whimper escaping your lips at the sight. He was so beautiful, craved by the angels, breathed to life by the devil. Soon, his pants and boxers were getting ridden off.

You check him out, your gaze hungry. Your fingers shake with desire as you take off your (his) shirt. You let it fall, exposing yourself completely to him, like he did for you. His eyes rack you up, causing a flush to every visible inch of your skin.

“Open your legs,” he said, as he walked closer and got down on his knees for you. “I am hungry,” he said, while his lips pressed to your knee and his lustful eyes bewitched you. You had to bite your tongue to not let a moan from his mere words. You spread your legs wide, letting your cunt come into his view.

Your folds that were glistening with your arousal and your slit which was the cause of your juices fluttered around nothing from his gaze. “Exquisite,” he had whispered, the praise warming you up and making your pussy clench harder. “Eager too,” he chuckles, looking up at you but you refuse to meet his gaze.

“Have your meal,” you mumbled, embarrassed. He pressed a wet kiss to your inner thigh, making your breath hitch from the contact. A sharp moan escapes when he bites, his teeth digging into the flesh and your hand falls onto his hair. Your fingers grip the blonde locks but you don't try to push him away. Your legs tried to close around him, but his hands made sure to keep them spread as he liked it.

He pulled away, admiring the mark before he pressed another wet kiss to it. His fingers grip your thighs, they hold tight enough to leave marks too.

He takes in a deep breath, nuzzling into your thigh. Your primal scent makes him go wild, his nail digging into your skin as he brings his lips closer to your pussy. One swipe of his tongue onto your folds and he groans louder than you have ever heard him to do so.

“You taste like fucking candy,” he lets out, as his nose bumps into your clit, his tongue messily swirling around your folds, gathering as much of your juices as possible. Your legs were all on his shoulders now as he all but pressed his face, burying himself in your cunt. He takes in a deep breath through his mouth before he begins to ravish you properly.

His mouth taking in your entire pussy and sucking it with such devotion it made you see stars. He laps at your pussy, his tongue never stopping to devour you. You pulled him even closer, your thighs closing around his head. The action only made him. You couldn't see it, but his eyes rolled back from the lack of air and your taste that quickly became his favorite.

His teeth pulled at the outer lips of your pussy, making you cry out and gush more juices. He licks it all up. Before his attention goes to your little bud, his mouth kisses it at first. Then he takes your clit into his mouth to suck without any mercy.

It makes you cry out, the soles of your feet digging into his back as your hips begin to rut against his face. You have no control over your actions. You were gripping his hair so tight you were afraid that you tore away a few strands. Overwhelming pleasure attacked all of your senses as he didn't stop his merciless actions.

You arch your back, your lips moaning his name as heat begins to gather in your body. You cry out, “Close! Coryo! Fuck!” Pleads begin to leave your mouth as your hips grind faster, your clit nudged his nose as his tongue is now inside your walls, fucking you with his tongue.

Your eyes widen, and you let out a silent scream when his teeth nip your swollen clit. You lay on the bed, panting as your pussy cums on his face. Your arousal makes a mess on his face which makes you even more slick when he pulls back and gets on top of you.

You looked into his eyes, his cold blue eyes that were nearly black now. He was panting, both of your breaths mixing into the air. With whatever senses you have left, you use your palm to clean up some of the mess on his face.

As soon as you finish up, he holds your hand. His mouth on your palm with broad strokes of his tongue he licks the remaining of your juices clean. “Can't let it go to waste, my bird,” he whispered to you as he leaned down. His body caging yours or were you caging him down with your legs around his waist? He pressed a kiss to your cheek. Sweet and gentle, and so unlike him but you don't dare question his affections. May it be sweet or savory, you accept it with your arms wide open.

“Want you,” you whispered to him. “You'll have me when I see fit,” he replied, his mouth pressing open-mouthed kisses to your neck before they reached the flesh of your breasts. One of his hands squeezed your breast and his thumb rubbed circles on your nipple. His lips paid attention to the underside of it, licking the skin around the round flesh before his teeth sank in making you gasp. He sucks harshly, his hold on your breast getting rougher as he forms the mark on your skin. When he's assured that a hickey will be formed, his lips pull back and he presses a kiss to the mark.

“You're mine,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your skin before he takes a nipple into his mouth and sucks just as harshly as before. You moan, “Yours, Snow!” Your hands on his shoulders, your nails digging into his flesh. His fingers play and squeeze your other breast while he continues to suck your bud. Your cunt despite having a previous earthsharing orgasm begins to pulse with need. You whimper, “Corio, please!”

Coryo pulls away, his eyebrows etched in annoyance, as much as he likes to hear you beg, he would rather focus on his task of marking you up. He leans up and presses his lips to you. You moan into his mouth as you taste yourself on his tongue. Your fingers tangling themselves into his curls bringing him even closer to you. He breaks the kiss, “I'll teach you to be obedient later, my pet.”

You let out a whimper when he pressed a hard kiss against your lips. His hands travel down to your hips. “Get ready,” he whispered to you, “I meant my words.” I'll fuck you until you can't remember your name. Remembering his earlier words, you whine loudly, “Please!”

His hand grips your hip tightly as his other hand holds his hard cock and guides it to your entrance. Just to be a little tease, he swipes his mushroom tip all over your cunt, his cockhead bumping your swollen clit making you arch your back and your nails dig into his flesh harder, making him moan as well.

He finally pressed his tip into your slit, his cock gliding in smoothly because of how wet you were. He groans as his dick gets sucked into warmth. His head is between the space of your shoulder. He was panting, his hot breath hitting your skin as he pushed in inch by inch. Your hands are on his back, your legs around his waist as you encourage him to go deeper into you with your soft moans.

His teeth sink into your neck to stop a groan, as his cock reaches your deepest spot. While your nails drag themselves across his back to create red lines. Both of you finding ways to anchor yourself to reality, to not go insane with the pleasure you find in each other.

“Move,” you plead, “Please, Coryo, need you to fuck me. Need you!” Snow decided to have mercy on you both, his hips began to move shallowly, and he refused to completely pull back. He refused the concept of depriving his dick of your sweet, wet pussy. “Faster,” you beg, his deep thrust hits at your every spot, some you didn't even know existed. It fried at your senses, your mind going haywire, your body getting desperate for another release.

“No,” he barks near your ear, his mouth biting your earlobe before he begins to kiss your jaw and then to your collarbone. His lips suck purple and blue bruises on your skin while his hips grind into you. Making you go dizzy and insane with how his cockhead kept grazing your g-spot.

“Please, please,” you babble, “You're fucking me so good, Coryo! I can't take it, please! Fuck me harder, love!” His hips had stopped moving as he heard your words. His head leaned up to you, his lips brushing against yours as he whispered, “What did you say?”

You looked straight into his eyes, not hiding the love you had for him, letting it flow through your words and your body. “Love,” you whispered, your lips pressing a delicate kiss that could shatter everything you had built with Snow. “I love you,” you whispered. One of your hands moves to his cheek, caressing him. “You don't have to do anything in return, just know that I love you.” You smile at him, knowing it's more likely that he won't ever return your feelings.

You prepared yourself for a harsh rejection but instead, his hips begin to move again. Harder, faster than before, his cockhead kissing your cervix with his thrusts, his fingers digging into your hips marking it. You won't be able to walk later but that didn't matter.

What mattered was how perfect Coriolanus had begun to fuck you. No, it wasn't a fuck. This was something more. Something changed with your confession, something changed and will remain changed for the rest of both of your lives.

One of his hands reached upward, his fingers snaking around your throat. He pressed it in, not enough to block your breathing but enough to make you lightheaded. Your pussy which was already tight, clenched around him further making him groan right against your ear.

“Lover indeed,” he whispered, his words that you nearly missed, your heart understood what he meant. You gasp, “Kiss me.” You knew that even without him saying those words, he could love you all the same.

Snow complies, his lips clashing with yours. His hips rutting into you as his hands guide your legs into the mating press position, making you cry out into the kiss as his cock reaches even deeper than before causing a small bump into your stomach that neither of you notices.

The kiss got open-mouthed, desperate with how his tongue tangled with yours. It was filth filled with the pathetic, insanity of love you both felt for each other. His thrusts got faster, and sloppier as he was close to his end. Your cunt pulsating around his length as you too were close to shattering again.

What it took for both of you to reach the end was him breaking the kiss to whisper, “I should kill you. I should kill you for making me a lovesick fool again.”

The words even when you know can mean your doom makes you cum like nothing else. Your lips cry out as your walls begin to milk his cock for what it's worth. He groans into your mouth, letting himself feel your fluttering cunt before he thrusts into you once, twice, and finds his release. His cock spilling into you, his cum painting your insides white, marking you.

He pulls out, his back covered with scratches, his curls clinging to his forehead and his lips swollen from the kisses. You looked just as much of a mess as he did, with marks all over your body.

He thinks to himself as he lies beside you. He wasn't going to kill you now. Not in ten years or fifty but your end would only be when he decides.

He loves you after all, in his twisted way.

tags : @stelleduarte @nowitsmissing @lifeonawhim @le-lena @justacaliforniandreamer

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

teamwork

kinktober, day twenty-six

a/n: ........I mean, how could i not? it's a classic.

summary: “oh, naughty, naughty you,” Tony crossed his arms with a chuckle, “what were you hoping to get out of this, huh? Sneak in here and seduce the whole team? Is one just not enough for you?” the rest of the men snickered at his mocking quips. 

warnings: reader x pro football team!avengers (bf!steve rogers, bucky barnes, pietro maximoff, clint barton, sam wilson, tony stark, thor odinson), smut, slight dubcon, pro athlete au (even though i know the majority of them are american, i’m just gonna say that they play for a team somewhere else just so that i don’t have to say soccer, it hurts my soul), the old oops i accidentally walked into the locker room trope, gangbang, everyone's a hoe, established relationship, kissing, size kink, dirty talk, handjobs, oral, thigh riding, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, anal, double penetration, bukkake, spit kink, squirting, impact play, choking, overstimulation, multiple orgasms

word count: 5400

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

masterlist | join my taglist | kinktober 2023

“You were amazing out there,” you purred between pecks as Steve’s firm thigh, slotted between your own, rubbed against your core, your short skirt flaring out over the shorts of his uniform. 

“Thank you,” he chuckled, his lips fluttering down your neck as he uttered, “you know, I think was even better with you in the audience,” nudging his leg more determinedly against you as you melted against the wall he had you pressed against, “like you brought me luck or something.”

Just then, as you felt yourself begin to soak through your underwear and mark your boyfriend’s uniform, someone from further down the hallway poked their head out of a door and shouted, “hey, Rogers!” reeling back from the crook of your neck with a peeved exhaled, Steve cast his glance in the individual's direction, “coach wants a word with you in his office.”

“Alright, thanks,” he nodded before turning his attention back to you, arms firm on either side of your head, cosily caging you in as he spoke, “I’ll be right back,” his leg reluctantly retracted from your warmth, “there is lounge down around the corner there that should be on the quiet side about now if you don’t wanna wait out here,” he offered a vague nod to his left before dipping down to near your lips one last time. 

Smile growing wide at his considerateness, you breathed, “okay,” but the kiss you thought he wanted to give to you never came as his nose just ghosted against your own, seemingly savouring the moment before you felt him shift and his finger disappeared below your skirt, “Steve, what are you-,” but the rest of your sentence never saw the light of day as, with a daring smirk on his lips, Steve swiftly kneeled down before you and snatched your underwear down past your knees, keeping his eyes on yours as he methodically manoeuvred your jelly like legs to steal the sodden garment completely. 

“I’ll come find you in a bit, yeah?” he placed a playful peck right above your knees before straightening back up. 

“Steve!” you hazily giggled as he began to disappear down the corridor. 

“10 minutes, 15 tops!” he called over his shoulder as he sauntered away from your stunned form, “then I’m claiming my prize!” 

With a breathy chuckle still billowing from your lips, you pulled out your phone and rounded the corner, scrolling through your options of temporary entertainment as you neared the room that you could supposedly wait in.

Eyes glued to the small screen in your hands, you didn’t even glance up as you reached the first door you approached, not assuming there were any other options, you simply pushed it open and strolled in. 

Fully expecting that you were nearing a couch or something soon, the room you’d blindly entered turned out to not be the lounge you’d thought it was, but instead, the team’s locker room as you swiftly walked straight into a broad and bare chest. 

“Wow, I’m sorry-,” your eyes tore away from your screen to finally discover where you were. Vision growing wide, you stared up at the athlete before you, his golden mane rustling from the collision, “I-I-…”

Blinking up at Thor, your own name even escaped your memory as you found yourself in the very last place you should have wandered into.

From off to the side, you heard the voice of Tony holler, “hey sweetheart, fans aren’t allowed in here,” before leaning closer to the sandy buzzcut beside him and muttering quietly, “I thought they said they had tightened security around here…”

With your feet still frozen to the floor, your mouth hung agape as your eyes glazed over the recognisable individuals throughout the room, all in various states of undress. As Thor’s towering form moved past, walking over to snatch up a towel, someone else dexterously took his place, “wait a second, I recognise you,” you blinked back at the guy who rarely left your boyfriend’s side, “you’re Cap’s new girl, aren’t you?”

“I-I-, yeah,” you stammered, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to walk in here-”

“Oh, but you did,” Bucky teasingly took a step closer. 

“I was, uh, looking for the lounge, and I was just staring at my phone,” you swallowed thickly as someone out of the corner of your eye peeled off their shirt, “I’m so sorry, I'll get out,” but as you whirled around to bolt out of there, you just collided with another individual that had slyly slotted in between you and the only way out of here. 

“You’re cute,” you heard Bucky continue as you blinked up at Pietro, his athletic physique now completely blocking the exit, just as Thor's, the team's goalie, would do before the vast net during an intense game, “isn’t she cute, guys?”

Soft echoes of agreeance bounced off the walls before Pietro smiled down at you, “what’s your name, baby?” his accent sending a shiver straight down your spine. 

“Y/n…” you softly uttered, your heartbeat deafening in your ears, growing and rippling out from where it was still thumping from between your thighs.

“That’s a pretty name,” his eyes washed over your visage, licking it up like he was at a museum. 

“So, tell us, Y/n,” you spun back around at the sound of Bucky’s timbre, “did you really just not pay attention or did you perhaps walk in here on purpose?”

“No!” you squeaked, “I swear, I didn’t-”

“Because I think you were trying to catch a little glimpse,” he teasingly cut you off with a soft tilt of his head. 

“Oh, naughty, naughty you,” Tony crossed his arms with a chuckle, “what were you hoping to get out of this, huh? Sneak in here and seduce the whole team? Is one just not enough for you?” the rest of the men snickered at his mocking quips. 

“No, I wasn’t trying anything, I-,” the rest of your plea got suddenly swapped out with a shuttering gasp as the player sitting on the bench beside you had begun to ghost his hand against the goosebump-ridden flesh of your leg, sneakily twisting his position enough to catch a glimpse as his touch carelessly bushed against your short skirt, making it briefly fluff out enough for him to notice. 

“Hey,” Sam boomed to the rest of the team, “she’s not wearing any panties!”

“She’s not?” Thor turned his head to join the festivity entirely.

“Fuck,” you heard Clint curse gutturally, “you came to the game like that?”

From right beside him, Tony bit down on his smirk, “what a little fucking slut…” 

“No, it wasn’t-”

But before you could manage to convince them, Pietro pushed your form lightly and sent you directly into Bucky’s waiting arms. With your back arched like a ski slope, your short skirt rose up, covering virtually nothing, especially after you’d had your undergarments stolen, and granted the men behind you a pornographic view of the state Steve had left you in. 

Catching your chin between his thumb and forefinger, Bucky tilted your head up to catch your hazy eye, “why don’t you wait here with us?”

“I-…” you blinked back at him, feeling your chest rise and fall rapidly against his. 

“Rogers won’t mind,” he shook his head reassuringly, fingers shifting to gently caress you’re your heated cheek, “promise.”

“Yeah,” Pietro’s voice resonated vibrantly from behind you once more, “we always take good care of his girls…” 

Utterly spellbound by his ocean gaze, your head nodded fuzzily, “o-okay,” your breaths came in shaky as you spoke, “I guess if you say Steve wouldn’t mind, then I could probably just hang out in here for a bit till he gets back.”

“Great!” Sam clapped his hands together, the sudden noise causing you to jump out of the burly arms that held you. 

Leaning back against his locker, Clint then asked, “so did you enjoy the game?”

“Oh, sure,” with clumsy words flowing from your lips, your eyes traced Thor’s half-naked form as he crossed the room, “it was fun, I mean, you guys played really well, congrats on the win by the way.”

“Aw, thanks,” the man your gaze was locked upon sniggered as he settled in beside Tony, then leaned in to mutter in his ear just loud enough for you to catch, “Cap really wasn’t bluffing about her.”

“Dude, I know,” Tony harmonized lowly before raising his voice, “so, Y/n!” he slyly cleared his throat, “you never did tell us why you came to our game commando. Did you do that for us?”

“Oh, I-…” you averted your gaze, attempting to explain it with an airy laugh, “that wasn’t me, Steve kinda stole them a few minutes ago.”

Counting from behind you, Pietro challenged, “oh, Steve stole them, did he now?”

“Yeah,” you nodded bashfully. 

“And just why would he do such a thing?”

“I-…” you redirected your vision up towards the ceiling, “I think it’s easy enough to deduce what he was thinking.”

“Yeah, but I wanna hear you say it,” Pietro playfully stepped closer, tilting his head to catch your nervous gaze. 

“Come on, honey,” Sam’s tongue flickered out to glisten up his smirk, “don’t get shy on us now.”

Gnawing on your bottom lip, you then confessed with an exhale, “…we were gonna go celebrate…”

“Celebrate? Really?” Bucky’s gaze gleamed back at you in amusement, “well, that sounds fun, doesn’t it sound fun, guys?” he didn’t tear his eyes away from you as he countered to the others, their enthusiastic replies swiftly filling the thick air. Slowly leaning in close, he tugged a stray piece of your hair behind your ear, “you know what I think?” your head instantly shook, hypnotically granting him the answer to continue, “I think we deserve some celebrating as well, don’t you think? I mean, it wasn’t only Rogers out there on the field. Don’t we deserve a prize as well?”

As he cradled your face, all you could do was melt, “I-… I guess so…”

Closing the short distance, Bucky planted a feathery kiss upon your lips before tilting his head back ever so slightly to flash you a playful glance, “yeah?” his words were just above a whisper, “you wanna celebrate with us till Rogers gets back?”

With starry eyes, you blinked back up at the football player and hummed, utterly spellbound, “uh-huh,” before his lips pressed against yours once more, kissing you like there was no tomorrow. 

Letting go of your face, his silky touch casketed down your form like a waterfall, flutteringly roaming, up and down, each time carelessly catching your skirt and letting it gather up with his hungry movements. 

As you purred enchantedly against Bucky’s lips, Pietro behind you sank down to his knees, his intentions becoming clear as you began to feel soft pecks flutter across the backs of your thighs, his fingertips raking over your tingling skin in sloppy patterns. 

But as his caresses danced their way further north up your flesh, I didn’t take long before the greedy man dove head first into what he truly wanted to kiss, rendering you to tear away from Bucky’s lips with a dizzying pant, “oh my god,” and bury your face in his brawny chest. 

Lapping against your soppy folds, Pietro let go of your puffy pearl with a pop, briefly pulling back to share, “fuck, she tastes good.”

“Oh yeah?” Thor breathed from the sidelines. 

“Like fucking sunshine and rainbows,” he elaborated with gravelly desperation in his tone before latching onto your core once more. 

You barely noticed when people stepped closer, scarcely knowing whose hands were exploring your every inch, all you knew was how incredible they made you feel. 

Squeezing your boobs through your thin shirt, nipples pebbly and clear through the fabric, you felt Tony’s breath tickle your ear, “you mind taking this off for us, sweetheart?”

Eyes fluttering over your shoulder to find him, you simply raised your arms high above your head and let them yank your t-shirt off and merrily discover how you hadn’t bothered to put a bra on this morning. 

Glancing down, you watched as Clint cupped your softness in his wide palms, “damn, look at these fucking tits,” he gave them a little jiggle before dipping his head down low to place a few pecks along them. With the left of your small buds swiftly getting captured by his lips, a different hand took over palming your right as your fingers found Clint’s short hair, your nails scraping gently along his scalp, “you like that, hon?” he blinked up at you as he sucked, friskily nipping at your sensitive skin, “you like having these little nipples played with, huh?”

“Mhm,” you nodded hazily as someone reached out to pinch harshly the one not getting slobbered. 

“What else do you like, huh?” Bucky asked, his radiating form still pressed up against you. Capturing your chin, his thumb extended to brush over your lips, “you like having something in this pretty little mouth of yours?” poking it in, the pad of his finger softly ran across your tongue before your lips enclosed around him, your head blissfully bobbing as you sucked on his digit, “yeah? You wanna suck our cocks?” he retracted his digit, smearing saliva across your cheek as you offered him a foggy nod, “you think you can handle all of us at once?”

“I don’t know if I can,” you admitted with excitement bubbling in your belly, “I’ve never been with more than just one person at a time.”

“Oh no, really?” Tony rumbled playfully, “you’ve never been shared by more?” he palmed your tit roughly as you craned your neck to gaze at him, “what a fucking shame, truly, you deserve to be worshipped like a goddess.”

“Don’t you worry, darling,” Thor smirked, “we’ll help you,” before Pietro as the last one distanced himself, letting go of your petals with a pop, as you sank down to the floor.

You hadn’t really noticed before, but now that you were at the right eye level, it became impossible not to take in the team’s enthusiasm. Most of them were already touching themselves and some even had already whipped their cocks out, the vision causing your eyelids to flutter as your brain turned molten at the possibilities. 

“O-oh, wow,” your eyes grew to the size of plates as they tugged their shorts down, “I-I-,” lengths springing free all around you, “I don’t know where to start… wow…” a giggle suddenly began to bubble out of you as you tore your stare away from their erections to find their eyes, “h-hi.”

Grasping your hand in his, Bucky then wrapped your fingers around his girth, smiling down at you as he throbbed for you, “hey, baby.”

“You’ll all so-,” your dazed gaze flickered around at them all, “wow…”

Raising your other hand up, you enclosed it around Clint, testing out a gentle jerk to gauge their reactions. 

“Yeah, right back at ya,” Clint echoed your compliments as his mouth fell open, utterly spellbound by your tender efforts. 

Catching Pietro’s eye, you slowly leaned in and gave his tip a sweet kiss, smile wide as you then licked it a few times as if he was a melting ice cream cone on a hot summer’s day, “oh, shit,” he groaned, the grip he had around his base tightening, “open up for me, baby,” parting your lips, he then slowly rocked forward to fill up your mouth slightly, “yeah, just like that,” you felt his pulse against your tongue, “fuck…”

Head bopping gently at a leisurely pace, drooling blissfully around Pietro’s bulbous head, you shifted your hands, eyes fluttering in an attempt to locate the others, Sam and Thor then instead came to your rescue by seizing your flailing hands and bringing them to what you sought. 

When you pulled back from Pietro to catch your breath, his dick falling from your swollen lips with a crisp pop, you barely managed to suck in one whole breath before Tony’s hands seized either side of your face, bringing you close and sliding his cock in past your gasp. 

“Here you go,” he groaned as he rolled his hips, instantly going so deep that he tickled the back of your throat. With his fist tight around his base, he reluctantly let you come up for air, pulling back so swiftly as if the lack of your warmth pained him, “show me that tongue, angel,” chest heaving and eyes a daze, your mouth fell open and did as he requested, a hot string of drool promptly dripping from it and connecting to your exposed chest. Grabbing your chin and holding it tight, he leaned down and spit in your mouth, watching only a moment as it sparkled on your tongue before he tapped the weight of his girth against it, playing with it like a rain puddle before he ruthlessly thrust forward so deep that his heavy sack nuzzled against your chin and his tip disappeared deep down your throat, “there you go, honey,” fingers woven in your hair, he kept you still as he fucked your face, “there you go…” 

As Tony selfishly made you choke on his cock, Clint then knelt down beside you and reached under the short skirt that still clung to your hips. One hand still pumping himself, his other fingers found your core. 

“Fuck, she’s so wet,” he groaned, granting your aching clit a few circles before your pussy practically sucked one of his fingers in from how turned on you were, slipping in with no effect at all. Girth falling from your lips, you let out a shuttering gasp. Pressing his cheek against your own, Clint chuckled lowly, “you like that, baby?” lavishly caressing your walls ever so slowly, “that what you need?”

“Oh, god,” you panted, eyes fluttering shut, “yes!”

As he offered you another digit, he kept up a dizzying pattern of pumping his fingers into you, petting against a spot that made your pussy sing, only to retract them in order to rub your puffy pearl, repeating the dance till your legs trembled against the cool tile floor. 

“How about something else, huh?” Thor’s voice cut through your haze, “you wanna get that little pussy stretched out by something else?” your frame then jumped as Clint promptly landed a sharp slap against your soppy folds, forcing your eyes to snap open and your mind to race for an answer. 

Eyes training on Thor, a playful smirk bloomed on your lips, “what do you have in mind?” you asked innocently before you leaned in close and swiped your tongue over his leaking tip. 

Pumping his cock tightly in his fist, he tapped it against your beaming face and chuckled, “you really want me to spell it out for you?” to which you simply giggled under the weight of his length as a reply, one that swiftly got cut short and morphed into a gasp as Clint beside you plucked you up onto your wobbly feet. 

Working as the team that they were, they spun you around so that your backside pressed up against Thor. Hiking your skirt far enough up your waist to render it useless, the blonde athlete gazed down at your dripping mess, nuzzled against him and virtually drooling for him to split you open. 

“Look at that…” he briefly swiped his cock through your folds, parting them with his girth, “so pretty,” before his hips snapped forward and buried himself completely, “fuck…”

Eyes fluttering closed, you let out a shuttering moan as he held you there for a moment, savouring the euphoric sensation as your spine melted back against his chest. As Thor nuzzled you close, filling your cunt up so much that your knees threatened to give out, you felt stray hands find your tits, twisting and tweaking your nipples teasingly as some others grabbed your palms and guided them towards their cocks, enveloping their own around yours and fucking up into your touch. 

“How does she feel?” you heard Tony ask. 

Grip digging into your hips, Thor eased his length out, just halfway, before slamming it back inside, poking a place that pushed the air out of your lungs, “fucking incredible,” his lips ghosted against the shell of your ear. 

When a pair of hands found your face, cupping your flaming cheeks, your eyes dreamily blinked open once more to gaze back at Sam. Briefly pressing his lips against yours, it nearly gave you whiplash when they then manoeuvred your spine to bend, bowing down for your mouth to be aligned with Sam's excitement.

“Here you go, sweetheart,” he pumped his cock before you, smile growing wider as your soft tongue began to swipe across him, “don’t forget the nuts,” he lifted his length far enough out of your reach, groaning loudly as you began to drool all over his jewels as he wished, “that’s it, atta girl…”

Feeling Thor’s hands shift, one of them came to clench your skirt tightly, gathering the fabric on the small of your back and holding onto it as an anchor as the other one descended upon your ass, slapping away in quick succession, just hard enough for it to tingle deliciously. 

It all felt like a blur, like a dream. A beautiful and intoxicating dream. The kind of dream you’d never wanna wake from. 

After cumming all over Thor’s cock, in the hazy daze of it all, it took you a moment to realise that they had all switched out, trading places so that Pietro was now behind you, sliding in and out of your clenching cunt, and Clint was before you, sinking his dick so far down your throat that it left an imprint.

“This how you thought meeting the team would go, huh?” Bucky’s timbre cut through all of the moans, “this what you expected?” his touch was all over you, so hungry that you could barely keep track of it, “you expected us to pass you around and fuck your brains out?” gliding his palm down your spine, he then came to fixate on the little rosebud just shy north of where Pietro was having his fill, “has Cap fucked you here before?”

In between your sloppy pecks across Clint’s cock, you admitted, “a-a couple times.”

“A couple of times,” he chuckled darkly, “really?”

“What a dirty little girl you are, letting your boyfriend fuck you in the ass,” Clint suddenly got down to your level and plucked up your flustered face, bringing you close to his own, “say it, say that you’re a dirty girl.”

The words promptly flowed from you as if you were hypnotised, “I’m a dirty girl.”

Tapping your cheek lightly with his palm, he ordered, “again.”

“I’m a dirty girl.”

Slapping your features harsher this time, “one more time, what are you?”

“A-, fuck,” you whined, brows knitted as your pussy filled the room with soppy melodies of desire, “a dirty girl!

Just then, the door to the locker room burst open and in strolled none other than your boyfriend.

“Alright guys, listen up!” he called out before he truly took in the activities he’d just interrupted, “couch says that-,” but then when his gaze finally trained on your cockdrunk visage, the rest of his important message trailed off, “Y/n?” 

“Oh hey, Cap,” Bucky grinned, none of the players slowing down at the appearance of their leader, “thought we’d keep your girl entertained while you were gone.” 

Closing the door behind him, Steve took a slow step forward and sighed, “guys, seriously?” his glare found each and every one of them, “I was gonna talk to her first,” stride leisurely, he moved closer to you, peeling his shirt off as he did so. Kneeling down before you, getting on your level, a warm smile bloomed upon his lips as his eyes locked with your hazy ones, “hey baby.”

“S-Steve,” you whimpered, wanting so badly to explain, but unable to do anything other than melt even further. 

“How are you doing, huh?” the back of his knuckles softly ghosted down your cheek as his gentle tone washed over you like a warm cup of tea, “you still wanna tell me how well I played today or are you too busy telling the rest of the team?” 

“No, please don’t go,” you grabbed onto his tender touch, “please!”

Straightening back up to his full height, he pulled his shorts down and let his cock spring free, slapping his toned abdomen with its enthusiasm. 

“You mind?” he offered Pietro a nod before the man complied, easing out, and passing you to Steve’s open arms. Scooping you up, his strong grip curved around your bottom entirely. Pressing your lips to his, you tangled your arms around his neck as he nudged your weeping core against his girth, your cunt already creaming and painting his cock a milky shade.

Carrying you in his arms as if it took no effort at all, Steve raised you up further, aligning you just so before dropping you back down again and letting you sink down onto his dick, the sensation causing a pornographic mewl to escape both of your lips as you let the fevered kiss crumble in order to hide your face in the crook of his neck.

“Fucking hell, that’s it,” Steve groaned, lifting you up and down in his grip like a precious little cocksleeve, “that what you needed, huh? You needed me to fuck your pretty little hole?” palming your bottom roughly, he them landed a few swift slaps across it causing even more electricity to course throughout you with the sparks of pleasurable pain, “after the team had their fill, you still needed to feel me?” eyes squeezed shut, your drool smeared against his pulse as you felt him extend a finger and rub a few circles over your other hole, all of the other previous activities already slickening it up enough to make his dance molten and his initiative effortless when he plugged it up, “have me fuck you in front of all of them, give them a good view of what a beautiful mess they’ve made of you… Open your eyes, baby,” hazy vision blinking open, the side of your head stayed plastered against your boyfriend’s broad shoulder as your eyes locked on the spectators, “look at them, look at what you do to them, look at how much they want you.”

Trembling in his arms, so violently that you convulsed off his cock completely, it wasn’t till Sam excitedly pointed out, “oh, she’s a squirter!” that you noticed the gushing waterfall your high had showered Steve with.

“Damn right she is,” Steve smiled proudly, realigning his tender hold as he pressed a soft peck to your temple, “my girl is full of many talents,” with long strides, he then walked up to the bench in the middle of the room and slowly laid down upon it, securely holding your molten form close as he shifted, your body completely plastered on top of his as he cheekily spoke, “in fact, Buck, come over here, help me stuff her a bit more, yeah?” 

Glance swiftly washing over Tony, Bucky asked, “hey, do you still have that-“ 

“Yep, of course,” Tony didn’t need any more to understand, hastily rummaging through his gym bag before tossing his teammate a small bottle of lube, “here!” 

After liberally slickening himself up, you perked up a bit as you felt Bucky’s skin press against your own, your back arching up against his chest as he teased you, nudging his tip against your farmost entrance and rendering your form to yet again give into the ecstasy and recover in a flash. 

But as soon as he confidently sank in at slow and steady pace, a gasp escaped your lungs, “oh my god!”

“What?” Steve smirked beneath you, catching your wild eyes as he teased, “what is it, babe? What’s he doing?”

Mouth agape and brows tightly knitted, you uttered, “he’s fucking my ass.”

“Who’s fucking your ass?” Steve’s mockingly sweet tone washed over you.

“Bucky,” you whimpered as he eased back out till just the essence of him remained. 

“Why don’t you look back at him and say thank you?”

Twisting your head, you found his gaze and hazily managed, “thank you, Bucky,” the sensation of him sinking back in and splitting you apart made it nearly impossible to complete the task. 

“Thank you, what?” Steve fished. 

“Thank you for filling up my ass, Bucky.”

Capturing your face, Bucky cradled it in his hands as he smiled, “you’re so fucking welcome,” before dipping down to steal a sweet kiss, “any time, doll, any time…” 

With your nose nuzzled against Bucky’s, your boyfriend’s low voice once more found your ears, “hey baby? Why don’t you slide my cock back in, huh? Stretch that little pussy out as well?”

Reaching down to seize it, you hummed fuzzily, “mhm,” before slipping it in, your eyes promptly fluttering shut at the ecstasy. 

Their thrusts were slow but immensely intense, with a roughness hiding behind the pace that made you tremble between them. 

“Fucking hell, if you don’t marry this girl, Cap,” you felt Bucky’s boorish fingers wrap around your delicate throat, “one of us will.”

Fighting to peel your blissful eyes open, you first caught sight of Steve’s adoring features beneath you, gazing between your fuzzy expression and your stretched-out holes as if you were some mystical goddesses. But then your vision glanced across the crowd of professional football players, all fixated on you and nobody else, stroking their cocks to the exact pace your holes got filled. 

“I-I-, fuck-…” you whimpered as felt yourself once again near the edge.

“What, are you gonna cum again, sweetheart?” Steve moaned, rolling his hips up into you in a synchronized rhythm, “I can feel you-, christ, you clench down so fucking tight when you’re all stuffed like this,” he snaked his fingers down to strum your aching and overly sensitive clit, your frame nearly bucking away from him as he bullied the painfully puffy pearl. 

“It’s too much, fuck-, I don’t think I can take it anymore,” you heard yourself cry, feeling as if you might actually pass out. 

“No, no, baby, you can, you can,” your boyfriend declared determinedly, not slowing down one bit at the sight of your pout, “you can take it, you can cum with the both of us inside of you.”

“B-but it’s so much, I-”

“Don’t worry, we’ve got you, don’t we, Buck?”

“Right here, doll,” Bucky’s warm palm slid down your front and grasped your left tit, his whole arm curving over you like a seatbelt holding you upright and close to him, “just fall and we’ll catch you.”

And with that, your pour pussy poured out everything it had, tears spewing from your eyes at the intensity.

“Aah!” 

Convulsing, you nearly tumbled to the tile below, but they both held you close, safely in their grasp as well as far down on their cocks as your gushing core clambered around them and nearly expelled them entirely. 

Maybe you fell asleep, for even a second, because that’s what it felt like when you blinked your eyes open once more to find your drowsy frame situated on the floor, the lingering aid from a few of the men to get you relocated still remaining as you blinked up at all of them.

Had it truly been that many cocks that had in one way or another been inside of you today?

Smiling up at all seven of them from your position on your wobbly knees, you let your mouth fall open and your tongue roll out once last time as they furiously jerked themselves to completion before you, the grin on your face only growing wider as their cum began to paint your skin.

Twitching and panting, the majority still let their touch linger needily as they floated back down to earth. 

Broad chest heaving with every deep breath, “babe,” Steve bit down on his smirk as he gazed down at the decorated state you were now in, “say thank you to the guys for taking such good care of you.” 

Making your gaze go on a round to catch each and every one of their doting stares, you uttered breathlessly, “thank you.”

© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[minty-mumbles]

I'm making a soulmate au, and I need help deciding what Warriors' soulmark should be. The fic is from Wind's POV, and mostly covers the times before he meets the rest of the heroes, who are his soulmates (platonically)

All the other Links have something important to them/significant in someway, but all I can think of for Warriors is his shield, which is lame. Here's what I have for everybody else:

Sky: His red loftwing

Four: A kinstone split into four parts- green, blue, red, and purple

Time: A blue ocarina

Twilight: A howling wolf (Wind thinks it's a dog but isn't sure because it's a weird looking dog.)

Legend: Pink rabbit

Hyrule: A green fairy with a triforce symbol

Wild: A drawn bow with a blood splatter in the background

Wind: The telescope that his sister gave him, decorated with seagulls

[ew-selfish-art]

DpxDc AU: Tim as a child was never given a lot of information regarding the scribbling messy handwriting that appeared over night all over his arms- naturally he came to his own conclusions.

Tim Drake was home entirely alone at 9 years old and was about to go out for the night to test his brand new long exposure camera lens when he sees the writing on his arm. It’s not English, like he assumed it was at first, but it was using the alphabet to represent… Tim isn’t bad at math but this formula is complex for his little genius brain.

Looking at his camera, he decides he can spare a moment to look it up, solve it, and get back out into old town Gotham in time for Batman and Robin’s final patrol lap. He does just that, finding the problem to relate to some aerospace engineering and then quickly deduces what laws and theorems need to be applied. He finds a pen, writes down his findings in much neater handwriting onto his arm, and goes out. It’s barely a remarkable night at all. He gets a much more memorable photo of Robin roundhouse kicking a hench person.

Things just continued on that way. Tim would find some complex math, physics or chemistry prompt on his arm (surrounded by various question marks or notes or sad faces)- he’d answer it as best he could and move on with his life. Perhaps his parents were manifesting these pop quizzes? Perhaps his subconscious felt guilty about abandoning his studies for more Bat related pursuits? Tim really didn’t care to think much about it once he became Robin- there was too much on his plate and too many peoples problems for him to fix.

Notably, however, after the attack at the Tower, the pop quiz appeared and Tim wrote back that he wouldn’t be able to find an answer to this one. It was the only time Tim questioned the markings appearance and it was because the next thing that appeared was “Hope you feel better soon.”

… his parents wouldn’t include that on a pop quiz. Cursed then. Tim decided it must be a curse, whatever, he’d deal with the implications later in life.

Tim then has the worst year of his life, hes 15, no longer Robin and the questions from his curse are getting less math oriented and more… philosophical. A lot of mentions of death that, in hindsight helped him actually grieve, and a lot of theories about dark matter and souls. Tim answers back as best he can but he’s drained and his answers aren’t very good in his opinion. He gets minimal feedback.

It all comes to a point that he’s at a family dinner, Bruce is at the head of the table, Jason has promised just to stay for dessert, Damian hasn’t thrown a single insult his way and Steph was laughing at him- when a new theoretical model appears on his arm.

“You’re just as bad as Bruce, Timberly. Hiding a soulmate from all of us, how fucking typical.” Jason points out, while watching Tim scribble back some math with a question mark onto his arm.

“A what? No, this is just a curse. I get pop quizzes every now and then.” Tim bats away Steph who rapidly approaches and began to analyze his arm (the rest of the family isn’t far behind).

“Drake. Explain how you came to this conclusion.” Damian seems more curious than anything, if his lack of insults was anything to go off of.

“Since I was young I’ve had at least weekly math check ins, I never had a parent or anyone else around so I assumed my parents had me cursed to ensure I stayed on top of my studies. Sometimes it’s physics or chemistry, for a while there it was a ton of philosophy and behavioral psychology.” He shrugs his shoulders.

“Master Tim, I believe the lack of adults in your life has led you towards a false conclusion. That is most certainly a soulmate mark. The individual to whom you are responding is undoubtedly your other half.” Alfred attempts to calm the room before explaining to Tim. Tim isnt sure if he believes the butler, though Alfred only very rarely lied, so he grabs the pen once more. He writes his first question back: “Who am I to you?”

The room waits in anticipation and within moments a brand new line appears on Tim’s arm and he is vindicated: “We do math together???”

——

The reason Danny is failing English is because his built in homework helper sucks ass at metaphors and has apparently never read any classic literature. The tutor on his arm is great at puzzles and math tho.

Danny gets a reply back one night that he wasn’t expecting (Who am I to you?) and he mentions it to Jazz. Who goes insane that Danny didn’t even question it and just went with “meh, probably haunted” as his explanation for the phenomenon for all these years.

Apparently, if Jazz was right, he had a soulmate who was uh, super fucking smart. That was an overwhelming thought.

The next day Danny is in crisis mode and writes back “Wait, WHAT AM I TO YOU??? Can I help on your homework??”

Danny gets vindicated when the writing on his arm presents a shit ton of dates and information for an unsolved Gotham cold case. See, Haunted.

———

Eventually between Danny becoming the top candidate for astrophysics at Wayne Enterprises and Tim Drake being outed as having contributed tips to the GCPD that solved cold cases- they meet and realize just how dumb they’ve been.

[gremlingottoosilly]

Monster AU where Konig’s new human pet is terrified of him, of all monsters, until he kills some lowly recruit who is groping her and making her cry. Now she won’t leave his side and calls him her hero

You were terrified. It's only natural - you are taken hostage to a monster who treats you like a pet, used for breeding purposes and kept chained to the nest like an animal. You're terrified, crying every night - begging for him to stop, to just let you go or kill you. The sex with him isn't painful, but you're terrified of the pleasure he and his eggs are bringing you. He is not eating you alive or forcing you to entertain his soldiers, but his possessiveness only scares you more. He is not sharing you with anyone, but he is marking you as his - as nothing but a little doll to his amusement. You hate him, you hate this whole situation, and you hate yourself for being weak. Then something changes. He is allowing you to go out sometimes - you're still in a tracked collar, of course, with little bells to help too, but you can stretch your legs. You're still terrified of him, and you enjoy being away for at least a few minutes per day - right before someone approaches you. A soldier of his, someone is low-ranked enough to not have his personal pet. Someone is desperate enough to think that the girl roaming around the base if a free game - and you're weak, pathetic even. In your attempts to fight the monster off, you can't think of anything but to beg Konig to come - to help you. You're terrified of him and yet, you beg for him to come. Konig is so glad about the mating connection - he can sense your distress immediately, the way your cries are reaching his ears and tugging on his soul. He is going to get you immediately, ripping apart the dumb recruit who decided to take something that didn't belong to him - and you're so, so thankful to him for this. You're crying and hugging him and pressing your head against his chest, thanking him so so profusely. This is the first time you had touched him willingly, and he can't wait to make you thank him properly - noticing how you suddenly stopped trembling around him. How you started to roll over in the nest to hug him, to kiss him - you're still scared, but you know he is the least dangerous thing to you. Konig is holding you as softly as he can, whispering that he would kill anyone who will try to take you away from him. That no one should ever dare to touch you again.

[dolcettamagica]

𐙚˙⋆.˚ 𝐈'𝐦 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬, 𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐞

virgin!sukuna x virgin!reader, modern delinquent au

request: can you write modern au!sukuna and fem reader taking each others virginity with a established relationship tags: fluff, fingering, penetration, petnames (princess, baby, babygirl), sukuna is a delinquent; @mangiswig notes: minors dni, sukuna is lowkey ooc wc: 2.0k

Despite spending a significant portion of his formative years behind bars, the weight of consequence failed to curb the rebellious spirit of Sukuna. Emerging from the confines of incarceration with a hardened demeanor and a penchant for defiance, he returned to the streets that had once ensnared him with a renewed sense of determination. To Sukuna, the rules of society were nothing more than shackles, constraining him from the freedom he craved and the life he believed he deserved.

Fuelled by a potent cocktail of resentment and bravado, Sukuna navigated the urban landscape with the swagger of someone who had stared into the abyss and refused to blink. From petty theft to brazen acts of vandalism, he left a trail of chaos in his wake, a testament to the indelible mark of his troubled past. For Sukuna, the cycle of delinquency was a familiar refrain, a symphony of defiance that echoed through the corridors of his consciousness, a reminder of the streets that had shaped him and the choices that had defined him.

Yet Sukuna found an unexpected beacon of light in the form of you, a college student whose innocence and sweetness stood in stark contrast to his own turbulent world. Your love was a fragile bloom in the midst of concrete, delicate yet resilient, defying the odds with each passing day. Drawn to your gentle spirit and unwavering kindness,Sukuna found himself navigating unfamiliar territory, his rough edges softened by the warmth of your affection.

For almost a year now, you have been the anchor in Sukuna's stormy sea, a steady presence amidst the chaos of his life. With your unwavering belief in his capacity for change and your steadfast support, you became his guiding star, illuminating the darkest corners of his soul with the light of your love. Despite the whispers of doubt that lingered in the recesses of his mind, Sukuna couldn't deny the profound impact you had on his life, your presence a balm to his weary heart.

Your love for Sukuna knew no bounds, transcending the boundaries of societal norms and expectations. Despite the whispers of caution that echoed through the halls of your mind, you refused to turn away from the tumultuous storm that raged within him. To you, Sukuna was more than just the sum of his mistakes; he was a complex tapestry of darkness and light, a flawed masterpiece in need of redemption.

While others cowered in fear at the mere mention of his name, you stood unwavering by his side, your love a shield against the slings and arrows of judgment. You understood the depths of his anger, the ferocity of his defiance, yet you chose to love him all the same. For you, love was not about changing someone into who they should be, but rather embracing them for who they were, scars and all.

The decision weighed heavily on your heart, a tender offering you longed to bestow upon Sukuna, a symbol of your unwavering commitment to your love. With trembling hands and a courage born of devotion, you found yourself standing before him, your heart laid bare in the flickering light of your shared intimacy. “I want you to take my virginity tonight, Sukuna. I’m yours, fully.”

As your words pierced the air, a surge of conflicting emotions washed over Sukuna. His heart quickened with excitement, the prospect of possessing you in such an intimate way igniting a primal fire within him. Yet, beneath the surface, a flicker of nervousness danced in the depths of his eyes, betraying the weight of responsibility he felt in this moment. There was something he never told you. Sukuna, the known and feared criminal, was a virgin himself. He didn’t have the chance to lose it since most of his teen years were spent in jail and he met you shortly after his release. Yet, Sukuna was sure that he would manage to not have to confess to his virginity. 

Yet his dominant nature surged forth, a primal instinct asserting its dominance over his senses. With a predatory gleam in his eyes, Sukunas demeanor shifted, his posture becoming more assertive, more commanding. He saw this as an opportunity to claim you, to mark you as his own in the most intimate way possible. “Get on the bed, baby”, and you followed his command.

With a magnetic pull, Sukuna led you to his bed, your eyes locked in a heated exchange of desire and anticipation. The air was charged with electricity, every touch igniting a wildfire of longing between you. As you sank into the soft embrace of the mattress, a primal hunger consumed you, driving you to explore each other with an urgency born of passion.

With a possessive grip, Sukuna claimed your lips in a searing kiss, his dominance asserting itself with every fervent movement. His hands traced the curves of your body with a possessive intensity, his touch igniting a feverish need within you. You yielded to him willingly, your own desire mingling with his in a potent cocktail of longing and surrender.

“You’re so pretty, baby. I love you so much.”

Your clothes became mere obstacles, discarded in a frenzy of desire as you bared yourselves to each other without reservation. With each caress, each whispered promise, you delved deeper into the depths of your desire, your bodies becoming one in a dance of carnal pleasure and primal need.

“You belong to me, baby. All of you. Only to me. I’ll be your first and your last.”

As your passion reached its zenith, you lost yourselves in each other, your moans of ecstasy filling the air as you surrendered to the intoxicating rhythm of your desire. In that moment, on Sukuna's bed, you were consumed by the flames of your passion, your love, a blazing inferno that burned brighter with every touch, every kiss, every whispered promise of forever.

With a possessive hunger burning in his eyes, Sukuna trailed his fingers along your trembling form, tracing the contours of your body with a reverence that bordered on worship. As he settled between your parted thighs, he felt your pulse quicken beneath his touch, your breath hitching in anticipation of the ecstasy to come.

“You’re already soaked, princess. Been waiting for this, huh?”

With a predatory grace, he teased you with feather-light caresses, his fingers dancing over your skin in a tantalizing rhythm. Your soft gasps filled the room as he explored your most intimate depths, his touch sending shivers of pleasure cascading through your body.

With each stroke, he felt you surrendering to him, your barriers crumbling in the face of his relentless desire. He relished in the power he held over you, reveling in the way you arched into his touch, your cries of pleasure music to his ears, the way your wet pussy clenched and pulsated around his slender fingers. With a primal hunger driving him forward, Sukuna delved deeper into you, his fingers becoming an extension of his own desire as he brought you to the brink of ecstasy again and again.

“Don’t cum yet, babygirl. You wanted something else inside you, remember? Do you still want it?”

“Y–yes…ahh…f–fuck, yes, please, Sukuna.”

As Sukuna's touch grew bolder, you surrendered completely to the sensations coursing through your body. With each deliberate stroke of his fingers, you melted further into submission, your moans filling the air as you abandoned yourself to the overwhelming pleasure he bestowed upon you.

Your body quivered with every skilled movement, each sensation amplified by the electric tension that crackled between you. Your  breath hitched with every caress, your heart racing as you surrendered to the blissful torment of his dominance.

With a possessive hunger burning in his eyes, Sukuna reveled in the sight of you laid bare before him, your submissive surrender stoking the flames of his desire to new heights. Your moans of pure lust were like a siren's song, drawing him deeper into the abyss of his own primal urges.

Driven by an insatiable hunger, Sukuna's touch grew more demanding, more possessive, his own arousal building with each intoxicating sound that escaped your lips. With each whimper of pleasure, he felt the intoxicating rush of power surging through his veins, his dominance asserting itself with an almost feral intensity.

“I think you’re ready, baby.”

Sukuna positioned himself above you, your submissive form trembling with anticipation beneath him. With a possessive grip, he guided himself to your entrance, the throbbing heat of his arousal pressing against your quivering flesh. As he poised himself at the threshold of your innocence, a fierce determination coursed through him, driving him forward with an urgency born of primal desire. With a forceful thrust, he pushed himself inside your pussy, the sensation of your tight warmth enveloping him like a velvet vice.

“Oh– Fuck…fuck, it’s tight. You feel so fucking good, baby.”

You gasped at the intrusion, your body tensing with a mixture of pleasure and pain. With each powerful thrust, Sukuna claimed you as his own, his dominant nature asserting itself with every primal movement. As you moved together in a primal dance of passion and possession, Sukuna felt a surge of ecstasy and lust coursing through him. You felt so good stretching around him, he could feel your heartbeat through your wet, tight cunt.

As your bodies intertwined in the fervor of your passion, Sukuna's arousal reached a crescendo, the intensity of the moment threatening to overwhelm him entirely. With each hard, deep thrust, he felt himself teetering on the edge of ecstasy, his primal instincts driving him ever closer to the brink. He pounded into you like a wild animal, feeling the undying urge to not only claim your soul as his but also your body.

“Oh fuck…oh fuck no.”

But then, in a sudden and unexpected rush, Sukuna's control slipped away, his body betraying him in the most primal of ways. With a gasp of disbelief, he felt his release wash over him, his climax crashing over him with a force that left him trembling in its wake.

For a moment, time seemed to stand still as Sukuna grappled with the intensity of his own pleasure, his body pulsing with the aftershocks of his release. And as he collapsed against you, his breath coming in ragged gasps, he realized with a sinking feeling that he had cum far sooner than he had anticipated.

“…’kuna?”, your eyes shot wide, feeling him release his hot cum inside you. Usually it takes you far longer to get him to finish with your mouth. 

In the hazy aftermath of their passion, Sukuna's heart raced with a mixture of embarrassment and shame, his mind reeling with the realization that he had revealed his virginity in the most humiliating of ways. And as he looked into your eyes, he saw the confusion and concern reflected in your gaze, knowing that he would have to find a way to explain himself, even as his own insecurities threatened to consume him. Slowly he pulled out and grabbed the box of tissues next to his bed to clean you up.

With a heavy heart, he knew that he couldn't keep his secret any longer, not from you, not from the woman he loved more than life itself.

Summoning every ounce of courage he possessed, Sukuna steeled himself for the confession that weighed heavily upon his soul. With slightly trembling hands and a voice thick with emotion, he reached out to you, his eyes searching yours for understanding and acceptance.

"Baby," he began, his words coming out in a rush as he struggled to find the right ones. "I need to tell you something...something I should have told you before."

As he spoke, Sukuna felt the weight of his secret lifting from his shoulders, replaced by a sense of vulnerability unlike anything he had ever known. With each word, he bared his soul to you, revealing the truth of his inexperience, his virginity laid bare for you to see.

To his surprise, your reaction was not one of judgment or scorn, but of compassion and understanding. With a gentle touch, you reached out to him, your eyes filled with love and acceptance.

"Sukuna," you whispered, your voice barely above a whisper. "It doesn't matter to me. What matters is us, and the love we share. I’m yours and you’re mine."

[starseternelle]

[ DANCE ] — sender pulls receiver into a dance, but not on a dance floor ; in the midst of somewhere unconventional ( such as a kitchen or balcony ) , for a quiet, private dance, that may be more of gentle swaying than proper dancing ( modern!au ) // @nightstriumph

__________🏹    A    BOTTLE    OF    WINE    &&    TWIN    GLASSES    ARE    THEIR    COMPANIONS    AS    THEY    RECLINE    ON    HER    ROOFTOP.     her   hand   itches   to   capture   the   colors   of   the   sunset,     with   its   brilliant   orange   &&    pink   hues   that   catch   in   his   inky   hair.     as   summer   comes   to   a   close,     they   find   themselves   up   in   this   little   piece   of   paradise   more   often   than   not,     closer   to   the   heavens   than   the   bustle   of   the   city.     as   the   sun   dips   below   the   horizon,     a   sliver   of   ocean   just   visible   over   the   buildings,     his   eyes   land   on   her   with   a   soft   smile.     you're    so    beautiful,     he   tells   her.        with   a   growing   warmth   in   her   chest,     she   believes   him   wholeheartedly.

🏹__________   SHE    SEES    THE    IDEA    TAKE    ROOT    IN    HIS    MIND    AS    HIS    GAZE    SPARKS    WITH    MISCHIEF.     he   is   suddenly   on   his   feet,     offering   her   his   hand   with   a   goofy   half   bow   at   the   waist.     i    want    nothing    more    than    to    dance    with    the    most    beautiful    woman    in    the    world.     she   laughs,     shakes   her   head.     we    have    no    music.     his   smile   only   grows   wider.     we'll    make    our    own.     she   takes   his   hand  &&    his   arms   wrap   around   her.     as   the   stars   begin   to   appear   above   the   slowly   swaying   couple,     set   against   a   hummed   version   of   just    my    type,     she   lays   her   head   against   his   shoulder  &&    knows   beyond   a   doubt   that   she   loves   him   more   than   anything.     he    is    her    air,     her    reason.      tonight,     with    the    moon    as    their    witness,     they    are    infinite.

[yoonia]

A Christmas Fix — 01 (m) | kth

⟶ Summary | One-night stands are supposed to be nothing more than just. It shouldn’t have involved seeing those two red lines looking back at you weeks later without a name or a contact number linking you back to your mystery man. Nothing more but his face. The unforgettable face that would sometimes appear in your dreams at night. So unforgettable that you immediately recognise him the moment he walks into your family home at Christmas, hand-in-hand with your older stepsister.

With special collab prompt: "the holidays aren't so bad with you around."

⟶ Title | A Christmas Fix

⟶ Pairings | Taehyung x female reader

⟶ Genre | Secret Baby!au, Second Chance!au, Strangers to Lovers!au

⟶ Ratings & Warnings | +18 / M for Mature; including: alcohol consumption, mentions of pregnancy, vomiting/morning sickness, surprise babies, miscommunication, profanities/swearing, minor body insecurities (implied), some family drama; involves multiple explicit sex scenes, including: sexual tension, one night stand, drunk sex (with clear consent), minor dom/sub dynamic, brat!reader, size kink, rough sex, light choking, restraint, hair pulling (M, F), protected & unprotected sex, fingering (F), oral sex (F), clit play, breast play, stripping, biting, minor hand job/groping, grinding, masturbation (M, F), dirty talk, implied pain kink, praise kink, body worship, marking, multiple orgasms (M, F), overstimulation.

⟶ Word count | 25,363 words (of 54,773 words)

⟶ Story Notes | Part of the Jingle All the Way collaboration with @leahsfavefics, @kithtaehyung, @kpopfanfictrash, @cybrsan, and @sugaurora | Written in 2nd person POV (in case you’re new to my writing, I don’t use ‘y/n’ coding as all of my lead characters are considered as OCs) | Moodboard was done by me | Posted in: January 31st, 2024 by @yoonia

⟶ Author Notes | I know that this is so late, but December has always been a rough month for me and this time it continued until January. I hope you can still enjoy this story regardless. Happy belated holidays and happy new year, my loves!

⟶ Jingle All the Way collab masterlist | A Christmas Fix: next chapter ⇢

⟶ Main Masterlist | Taglist | Feedback | Mailbox | Ko-fi

⟶ Read on AO3

One month ago…

You already had everything perfectly planned out when you first thought of this trip some long months ago. 

Everything. 

From your personal bucket list full of wonderful things that you wanted to experience during your time away and the places that you wanted to see, down to the smallest details that you could possibly think of to be able to enjoy every single moment of your secret getaway.

Just like the red dress that you had chosen to wear tonight. The dress you had meticulously picked and bought to wear on the trip as you went to celebrate your newfound freedom. 

In your well-thought-out plan, you were supposed to have landed on the tropical island you were headed to by sundown. The warm tropical breeze should have been embracing you at the start of your trip instead of the cold, chilly wind flowing right outside these walls. 

By this evening, you should have already settled in nicely in the comfort of your hotel room right by the beachside. The calming sound of the rushing waves outside your window was the sound that you should have been listening to while resting from your long flight. 

You had pictured yourself embracing your freedom in a foreign land. To feel the soft sand slipping between your toes as you were playing chase with the rushing waves, and to find calmness that you could only get far away from the treacherous city where you came from. 

The trip was meant to help you mend your soul. Perfectly planned out as an escape from reality and leave all of your past hurt behind before starting a new chapter of your life. 

And yet, no matter how thoroughly you had it all planned out, somehow life simply found a way to mess it all up. Just like how it had always been. So perhaps you shouldn’t have been so surprised when it happened to you again, just when you thought that you had everything under control. 

You should have seen the signs long before everything started crumbling down.

The sky that kept growing darker ever since you left the city. The constant turbulences happening during your first flight that made the trip feel intense. The unsettling feeling you met the moment you landed in this place for your transit. The constant announcements echoing through the airport about flights that were getting delayed and cancelled while you were getting no news about your transit flight’s departure. 

You should have been prepared to face reality, keeping in mind that life hadn’t been so nice to you lately to let you slip away that easily. Yet your stubbornness prevailed. And after your most recent predicament, you needed this trip to happen. You needed to be right. 

After all, you have made it all the way here. It would have been impossible for you to return home, wouldn’t it?

So you remained in denial and were so stubbornly holding onto hope that you would soon be taken away from this place towards your dream destination. Even when the world around you seemed to be falling apart. 

But after long hours of waiting, you were finally forced to accept your fate, letting go of any hope you had left to escape this place when they officially cancelled the rest of today’s flights due to unresolved weather issues. Including yours.

“I’m sorry, but we really can’t promise you anything at this moment. There will be no flights until the storm passes and our pilots are cleared to fly again. Until then, we have nothing to tell you.” 

The staff’s swift response to your inquiries about getting on the first flight available to take you to your destination only left you with a dead end. Even flying back home was no longer an option, only because that would only mean that you were admitting defeat. 

And that was how you ended up here tonight, stranded right between the daunting city that you called home and the paradise that you wished to be in until an unforeseeable future. Your dream of enjoying the night in the comfort of the beachside hotel room overlooking the wide, clear ocean, had been replaced with the reality where you had to spend overnight at the airport’s transit hotel that the airline staff helped book for you. 

You released a sigh as you leaned back against the elevator wall. Recounting the events again only brought back all the terrible mood you were having. And it didn’t help that the last message that your roommate sent you only reminded you of your setback. 

From Skye: Just checking on you on your secret getaway. I hope you’re having a blast right now. I wish you’d tell me where you’re heading so I can have a good reason to be jealous. Be safe!

Another sigh came from your lips as you wondered—

Now how am I supposed to answer her text? 

Before you could find an answer, the elevator doors opened as it reached the lobby downstairs. You put away your phone as you stepped out, and immediately got lost in your thoughts. Your mind once again getting too loud as it keeps you company. 

At first, you had no intention of hiding this trip from her. Yet all the circumstances leading to this weekend had made it hard for you to share anything to anyone.

You were planning to wait until you were finally there so you could surprise her with pictures from the beautiful beach or your comfortable hotel room. Showing her the pretty nighttime scene from the tropical island would have been a nice way to flaunt your secret getaway rather than boasting it when your fate had been filled with uncertainty. 

But instead of having an evening walk down the beach, you were trudging across the lobby inside an airport hotel, accompanied by the sound of your heels clicking on the marble floors instead of having sand soiling your feet. 

And the view outside the window that you got to see earlier had been nowhere close to the pretty beach with its white sand and rolling waves. Instead, you had a clear view of the dark night sky, painted with the raging storm and its blaring thunders so strong they almost caused the entire bedroom to shake. Neither showed any sign of calming down any time soon, leaving you with no other choice but to do what you could to enjoy your temporary stay.

And you were going to start doing so by having a quick drink to help you unwind for the night. 

The red dress that you were wearing might seem a bit excessive for a nightcap, but for a short while, it helped you forget where you were. It felt almost as if you were walking in a dream as you strolled down the lower lobby in search of the hotel bar. 

Entering the hotel bar, however, became another wake-up call. 

The bar was quite large for a transit hotel, accommodating the patrons filling the place tonight. You had hoped that you could have a dance or two with a friendly stranger before retreating to your hotel room to rest, yet the closed-off lounge area had more space filled with box seats than the open dance floor. The seating area was the only place in the bar which was dimly lit, allowing the guests some privacy while they settled in with their drinks. 

The small chandeliers glittering from the ceiling were far from the hanging lights that you pictured hanging in a beachside bar. Just like the one place you had seen pictures of while planning for your trip. The lights you were seeing here made the entire space beneath seem luxurious, spreading a soft golden glow over the wary faces trying to enjoy the night. 

The pulsing bass that came out of the speakers was enough to drown the sound of the violent storm happening on the other side of these walls, further helping to create an illusion that you were in another place. That you were somewhere else instead of being stranded inside an airport hotel, together with all the strangers who seemed to be facing the same fate as you did. 

You made your way towards the main bar, suddenly feeling hyperaware of your surroundings. Even without looking, you could feel people’s eyes following your movements. Yet you paid no heed to them. You were only here to quiet down the raging storm happening inside your head, after all. 

A strong scent of old wood took over the bar area. Mixed in with the excessive scent of air fresheners and cleaners, it was enough to remind you that you were miles and miles away from the beautiful island where you had been so desperate to be. 

Smoothing your palms down your red dress, you took one empty seat at the bar. You caught the bartender’s eyes as he walked past, and within moments, a glass of strawberry daiquiri ended up in your hand. 

This feels nice, you wondered to yourself as you sat back and tried to relax.

One sip of the sweet alcoholic drink was all that it took to refresh your mind. As the warmth from your drink ran smoothly through your body, any doubt and wariness you felt began to fade. 

The next sip of the drink managed to ease your thoughts down a bit more. It helped push away the reminders of your troubles to the back of your mind. Finding calmness, you took another quick look at your surroundings.

The seating lounge seemed to be filled with guests more than the main bar was. Stranded travellers like yourself. At first glance, the nicely dressed men in suits made it seem like you were in a bar downtown. As if they were nothing more than a group of businessmen seeking leisure on a Friday night with drinks. 

It only took you looking a few seats away from them for the illusion to shatter. Your eyes fell on a group of men and women wearing their summer clothing who were making a toast, acting as if they were at the peak of their vacation. 

Looking at the scene made you realise that you weren’t the only one feeling miserable tonight. You wondered just how badly these people here needed to forget. How many of them here might be similar to you, stranded in an unexpected situation while trying to escape reality? 

You raised your glass to hide your bitter smile. The smooth liquid continued to flow through your body and you slowly began to find some peace of mind. Before you knew it, you had finished your drink, though you weren’t exactly ready to return to your cold bedroom. 

“Can I order you another glass of drink?” 

A deep voice invaded your senses after a long period of silence, and it was coming from your side. You had been far too deep in your reverie that you didn’t even realise that someone had taken the empty seat right beside you at the bar. 

Curious to see this friendly stranger, you slowly turned around to look at him. And what you saw in him nearly took your breath away. 

A tall, lean man was sitting there. His slick hair had a few curls at the end of each strands, and he had combed them back, leaving nothing more than a few stands framing his handsome face that looked almost as if it had been sculpted by the fine hands of masters in art. His sharp nose and jawline drew your attention, while his deep and soulful eyes that appeared like pools of rich mahogany drew you in, as if he was hiding a story behind his intense gaze. But it was his plump lips that formed into a smile which caught your eyes the most.

At your silence that stretched out while you were busy being captivated by him, he raised his eyebrows. It made you realise that he was waiting for your answer. An answer to a question that you had so obviously missed. 

“I’m sorry?” 

He tilted his chin to point at your now empty glass. “You look like you could use another glass, and I’d love to get one for you,” he said with an amused tone of voice. 

Once again, his deep, velvety voice hit you deeply. It resonated through your body, and a shudder ran down your spine. You refused to believe that he was able to cause this effect on you solely through his voice or his pretty smile. 

But how else would you explain the reaction that was drawn from your body? 

I don’t think I’m that drunk already, you wondered.

It was probably the way he spoke to you which affected you so much. The way he was asking a question with pure confidence. As if he already knew your answer, and that it would be impossible for you to refuse his offer. 

And he wasn’t completely wrong about it. 

What remained from your sullen mood immediately shifted in his presence. And while you have no intention of turning him down, you decided that you were not going to make things easy for him. 

“An interesting offer that seems like such a waste for me to refuse,” you sweetly said to him, smiling as your eyes fell on his empty hands. “But how would a woman feel at ease to accept such an offer from a man who isn’t even holding a glass in his hand?” 

He squinted his eyes at you, which only made his gaze feel more intense. “Are you afraid that I might be planning to get you drunk?” 

You softly laughed. “Not sure if I should be so worried about that. Getting drunk tonight has always been my initial plan all along,” you coyly said, hiding the fact that it was never your intention to get wild tonight. But his appearance intrigued you enough to change your mind about ending the night so soon.  

The mysterious man remained oblivious to this as he laughed with you. His wide, almost boxy grin mesmerised you in an instant and you were once again left speechless. 

He waved his hand to grab the bartender’s attention. It was nothing more but a simple gesture, yet you were somewhat drawn to it. To him.  

While he greeted the bartender, you took the chance to have a better look at this man. You noticed that he was a bit different compared to the other men that you saw around you earlier. 

Dressed in a black jacket over his plain white shirt, he didn’t seem as sophisticated as the stranded businessmen in their flashy suits sitting together at the bar’s lounge. Yet he had a different level of confidence which was enough to make your cheeks feel warm. 

In your eyes, he was alluring, almost as intensely as the dark storm happening outside. And you couldn’t resist being pulled towards him. 

“Another glass of the same drink for the lady and a glass of grasshopper for me,” he smoothly spoke as he ordered the drinks for you.

The bartender nodded and went to work, while you slid closer to him. His fresh-scented cologne immediately hit you, and your confidence nearly wavered that you almost slid back. But then he caught you with his gaze as he turned back to you, giving you the kind of attention which boosted every bit of ego you had. 

“So you also prefer something light and sweet. How intriguing,” you teased him, bringing back his alluring grin. 

“Why do you think I came here to join you? It was obviously for the fruity drinks and to have someone to drink it together with,” he joked.

You rolled your eyes at him and smiled. Before you got to say something in return, the bartender came back with his order. The man took a sip of his drink first before you took yours. Once again, the sweetness from your drink swirled through your body, chipping away at the tension that had been weighing you down ever since the day’s saga began. 

“To be honest, I also thought that you were looking a bit rough.” His remark brought your attention back to him. The tease was gone from his voice. All that was left was a gentle concern that seemed genuine. “And you looked like you needed a friend. That’s why I invited myself to join you.” 

It makes you feel uneasy to think that you were being so transparent. So much so that a complete stranger like himself was able to see right through you. 

“You think so? Wait until you hear how rough I’m feeling inside as well,” you bitterly said to him, drawing a soft smile to his face. 

“That makes the two of us then,” he said to you gently with his eyes on his glass of drink. There was a forlorn look in his eyes as he slowly twirled the glass, causing the liquid to swish around before he took another sip from it. 

“Care to share?” you questioned him before you could stop yourself, only to pull yourself back. “Sorry, that sounds creepy. We just met and here I am, prying into someone else’s business,” you nervously laughed.  

His gaze softened when he looked at you. Furthermore, he also seemed intrigued. 

“No, not at all.” His voice was calm, and it somehow helped to calm your nerves. “I was just about to lend an ear in case you needed someone to vent to. I never expected that you would be a step ahead of me before I could make the offer.” 

The comment he gave you made you feel warm inside. 

“Mine’s a long story,” you bitterly said to him as you raised your glass, almost giving in to the urge to take a hefty drink and finish it off when everything started coming back to you again.

The reason behind this trip, why you were stranded here on your own, while being far, far away from home, and all the drama that had gotten in the way when you had been so desperate to get away from everything. 

Unsurprisingly, the man merely shrugged. “I’ve got time to spare. My flight won’t leave until tomorrow. And that is if they’re allowed to fly out of here at all.” 

You smiled at him. “Same here. I guess we’re both stranded here all night, huh?” 

He leaned in just then, invading your personal space and filling it with his presence. And you didn’t even mind it as you leaned into him, meeting him halfway to welcome him into your little safety bubble. 

“And I was worried that I might get stuck feeling lonely while being stranded in this place,” he gently murmured, drawing a smile to your face.  

“I doubt that you would end up alone tonight,” you teased him, simply because there was no possible way that someone as attractive as he was would be returning to his hotel bedroom alone. 

His smile grew, yet the deep, dark look in his eyes shifted into something else. Something naughty and sinful. It made you feel a new sensation brewing inside even without him ever having to touch you. 

“Is that an invitation?” he asked with his deep voice that came grazing at your skin. 

Normally, you wouldn’t know what to say in return. It had been so long since you played this kind of game with someone. With anyone. But his presence and his words were drawing something out of you. A part of you that you never thought existed. And you surprised yourself when you played along, taunting danger head-on as you challenged this handsome stranger before you— 

“Would you like it to be?” 

Something flashed in his eyes. It was dark and intense, and it was sucking you in. It brought a myriad of sensations that unexpectedly went straight down to your core. 

In the deep silence that fell right after, the world around you faded. Even before you got to know his name, before you had the chance to share your story, you already knew the answer that he was about to give you as a response to your question. 

And you also knew right then, that the sparks that came rising around you were something that you would never be able to easily forget, even if every bit of memory you had about him would fade over time. 

Present…

Why do I keep thinking about that night all over again?

You can only wonder, as you keep being reminded of that eventful night. 

Weeks, nearly a month have gone by ever since, yet the memories seem to have been engraved deeply in your thoughts. And today, even though you haven’t really been thinking about it since, you suddenly find yourself having no trouble recounting everything that happened then. 

Well, almost everything. 

Some parts may seem blurry now. All due to the passing of time and the fact that you were partly inebriated at the time. But you can still recall some parts of the night that had clearly left a strong impression on you—the first encounter and the conversation you shared before alcohol took over, the instant attraction that you felt, but most of all, his entire presence. 

And they all have been coming into your thoughts while you are sitting here in the corner of your bathroom. Alone. With your arms wrapped around your folded knees and your eyes closed. As if you are waiting for a miracle to happen. 

You scoff at the thought. 

Right. Miracles. 

Years have long passed since you stopped believing that miracles do exist. Life always has its way of blindsiding you with its twists and turns that miracles no longer seem to matter anymore. 

Not for you, at least. 

Your past experiences have only caused you to look at it with sceptical eyes, sometimes even with bitterness, knowing that life has never been on your side. 

But here you are now, wishing, praying, holding onto hope that there would be a miracle to stop you from getting into a messy situation. One that you know you wouldn’t be able to handle on your own. 

After all, the perfect season of miracles is right around the corner. So it wouldn’t be so wrong for you to have some faith in them again now, would it? 

Your phone starts blaring with the sound of the alarm, snapping you out of it. Slowly, you rise on your wobbly feet. It feels as if your entire body has grown numb even before you get to face reality as it comes glaring back at you. 

Clutching onto the edges of your bathroom counter, you try to hold yourself together, and immediately failing, as you look at the two thin white strips lying on the cold counter and feel your entire world tilting off of its axis. 

All because of the two red lines that are clearly visible on each strip.

“Oh, fuck,” you softly groan. Deep down, you had already predicted this. Yet you kept denying it, hoping that you would be wrong.

“No, no, no—” you continue murmuring to yourself while wishing that you could somehow turn back time and change everything before things started going the wrong way. 

Back to this morning, when your roommate caught you—once again—throwing up last night’s dinner before handing you the unopened pregnancy test packs that she has been keeping safe in her room with the premise, “Just in case.” 

Or maybe you could return to last night when she pointed out your odd cravings—like dipping apples into peanut butter and eating leftover mac and cheese straight from the fridge without warming it in the microwave first—and joked about how you have been acting like a pregnant woman with your mood swings. 

Better yet, you wish you could go back to that night, back to that many weeks ago, when you allowed yourself to fall for a stranger’s charm which led you to spend the night with him. 

You close your eyes, once again murmuring to yourself, “This has got to be a dream.” 

But the moment you open your eyes again, nothing has changed. You are still standing there with your hands holding tightly onto the edges of the bathroom counter. And the two pregnancy test kits that you used are still lying on top of the counter for your eyes to see. 

A rapid sound of knocking on the bathroom door sends you jumping back. 

“Hey, ______? Is everything okay?” you hear your roommate, Skye, calling out for you. Her voice seems calm, yet when you recall hearing the sound of her footsteps moving back and forth outside of the door while you were taking the test, you know that she has been waiting just as anxiously as you were. “So—? What does it say?” 

Still in shock, and quite stuck in denial, you open your mouth only to have no words coming out of you. Your brain feels a bit hazy as you walk up to the door and open it for her. 

Skye takes one look at your face and her gaze softens. “What did it—” She shakes her head. “Oh, never mind, I’m dying to know. Let me see it,” she says as she brushes past you before you can say anything. 

Hoping that there is a chance that reality can change within the next few seconds, you refuse to turn around and once again close your eyes while she suddenly grows quiet.

Maybe you were just imagining things. Maybe you weren’t even looking at the test properly. Maybe—

“So, uhm—” you can hear Skye’s voice trembling a little as she hesitantly asks you, “Two lines mean it’s positive, is that right?” 

And just like that, every bit of hope you have in you flies out the window. “I wish I could say that it’s the other way around,” you softly murmur, feeling defeated. 

And the feeling grows stronger when you hear her cursing under her breath,

“Well, fuck.”

“What are you doing?” you ask Skye as you gingerly take a seat on the sofa. 

Once you both stepped away from the bathroom, she guided you to the living room while she sauntered away to the kitchen without a word. You can hear the noises she makes as she is busy rummaging through the counters. Yet you are too far away to see what she is up to. 

“Hang on a minute. Stay there,” she calls out without even looking. 

“Okay.” 

It’s not like you have any energy to go anywhere, after all. Your head is still spinning and you can barely feel your legs. It feels as if you are stuck in a bad dream and you just can’t get out of it. 

It doesn’t take long before Skye returns to your side, carrying with her two clean tall glasses in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other. It was the same bottle that you opened when you celebrated your promotion a couple of weeks ago after coming back from the trip. 

Holy shit, you inwardly cry out. Your heartbeat rises as your hands find their way to your stomach. 

“Okay, let’s try to calm down,” Skye says to you as she places both glasses on the table before you, although it seems to you more as if she is talking to herself instead of reassuring you while you are panicking inside.

A couple of weeks ago? Wouldn’t I have been already pregnant then? 

These thoughts keep running through your head as you watch your roommate pouring wine into both glasses, just like the night she did the same when you first opened that same bottle. 

Dear God, how much did I drink that night? You ask yourself with a grimace as you try to remember. 

Wait, no. I didn’t drink anything, you remind yourself. Relief washes over you look back at the celebration night where you barely took a sip before Skye took the glass away from your hands. 

Because you were already feeling sick that day. 

You had been feeling nauseous for days, throwing up once in a while and mostly on the days when you were lacking sleep because of the workload you had to handle for the upcoming promotion. All you ever did was wet your lips with the wine after the celebratory toast. That was the only contact you made with the drink before Skye replaced it with a tall glass of alcohol-free smoothie that she made especially for your ‘upset stomach’.

Of course, how did I not see the signs? You wonder again as you remember the sickly feeling you had after vomiting each morning and feeling powerless for the rest of the day. It even got so bad that you had to skip work for a couple of days at the beginning of your ‘sickness’. 

If only you knew then. 

Your eyes are still on the wine glasses as Skye places them side by side and puts away the bottle. 

“Uh—I believe we both just saw the two lines appearing on the test packs.” 

She lets out a light scoff and waves her hand at you. “They're both for me. I’m going to need them while I process this,” she says, shaking her head as she sits down to join you on the sofa. “You get to keep that smoothie.” 

You follow her gaze and look down at the glass of smoothie that you left on the table during the whole fiasco with the pregnancy test. While you pick up your drink, Skye takes a hefty drink from one of the glasses of wine and sits back. 

“So—you’re pregnant,” she murmurs to herself. Her gaze flickers to your face for a brief moment and nods to herself before taking another drink. 

Why does it seem like she is the one panicking? 

She releases a sigh. Neither of you says anything for a moment. But you can tell when she grows more anxious by the minute. You don’t understand why, until she carefully asks you, “Are you going to tell Han?” 

Confused, you look at her with your brows furrowed and ask, “Why would I tell Han that I’m pregnant?” 

Skye looks genuinely confused, almost as much as you are, and you only realise the reason why when she asks you, “Isn’t Hansol the father? You guys have been dating for a long time and I can’t remember ever seeing you with anyone else while you’re on a break.” 

You wince, realising too late that you have yet to tell her the truth.

“Actually—we’re not on a break,” you slowly admit with a low voice. Months have gone by, and even though it no longer hurts whenever you start thinking about your failed relationship or to mention your ex’s name, you cannot help but still feel bitter about how it ended and you hate talking about it. 

That is the reason why you haven’t said anything about it to anyone. Maybe you were just too embarrassed. After all, it isn’t so easy to admit that you may have been the reason why the four-year relationship fell into pieces. 

“I lied,” you say with a burst of deep sigh, “It was over, done, finished—”

“So you already broke up?” she cuts you off with a calm voice. 

You bite your bottom lip as you slowly nod your head. “Yeah,” you whisper, suddenly feeling like your throat is tightening up. Not because you feel the sudden urge to cry. But only because this is all becoming too much to take at once.  

“And the baby?” she carefully asks you. “It wasn’t Han—” 

“The baby isn’t his,” you quickly answer before she even gets to question about it. 

It’s hard enough to hear his name being mentioned after a while. It feels harder to think that you might be carrying his baby. 

But the moment those words come out of your lips, reality finally sinks in. Grabbing the glass of your drink, you take a hefty drink out of it. You wish there was some alcohol in this thing. Maybe it would have helped you think more clearly. 

That’s right. It couldn’t have been his.

Sighing to yourself, you begin to do the math. “We’ve been broken up for months, so if the baby is his, I’m sure I would be showing already by this time around,” you say this while gently rubbing your palm over your stomach. 

Now that your suspicions have been confirmed, the gesture feels almost natural to you that your hand simply moves before you realise it, though it helps confirm that nothing much has changed with your body.

It feels odd to think that there is a life existing inside you, yet you cannot really see it with just one look. This convinces you further that the baby couldn’t have been conceived while you were still dating your ex. Looking back to it now, once you remember when exactly the sickness and craving started, it would only make sense that the baby was conceived on that specific night. 

“So—if Hansol isn’t the Dad, then who was it?” 

Biting your lip, you turn to look at Skye. Of course, if there is anyone in this world that you can talk to about this, it would only be her. Just like how she would come to you first whenever she is in a bind, whether it’s about her relationships, about work, or even the smallest things like having a bad day where you end up sharing a tub of ice cream to feel better. 

After all, she isn’t just a roommate, but also someone you have known the longest compared to the other friends you’ve made since moving into this city. You have known each other since college, since back in freshman year when both of you were nothing more but young kids from small towns being thrust into the big city. 

Being put together in the same dorm room led you to become fast friends. After years of enduring the same hardship in college, the two of you remained so close that you even moved to this city together and continued to live in the same place to keep each other company. 

You have gone through everything with her, and you have always been honest with each other. It should have been easy to tell her everything. If only you could find the right words to begin sharing your story. 

“I have no idea where to start.” 

“Well,” Skye patiently says while twirling the glass of wine she’s holding. You squint your eyes at her when you find it almost empty. So unfair. “Why don’t you start from the beginning?” 

“Right. From the beginning,” you say this with a nod. “Do you remember when I went away last month?” 

She nods. “Your secret getaway. Still jealous of that, by the way.” 

You give her a small smile. “Yeah, well—there’s a reason why I insisted on going alone on that trip. I actually planned it as a surprise vacation for me and Hansol. The original idea was for us to have a romantic getaway for our fourth anniversary.” 

Skye raises her eyebrows. “Well, damn,” she mutters. “Let me guess. You broke up before it happened?” 

You grimace as you recall what happened. “Close enough,” you answer with a bitter smile. “It was because of the trip that we got a huge fight in the first place.” 

Skye tilts her head. “I’m not following.” 

Sighing, you drink your smoothie to cool down and swallow the bitter feeling you are suddenly getting. Recounting the break-up isn’t so much fun to do. Not even after this long. 

“I planned the entire thing on my own. Booked the flight and the hotel, and rearranged our schedules to fit each other so we could go on that exact date. But I never shared anything with him, except to confirm that it was a place that he also dreamt of going so we could both enjoy it together.” You let out a defeated sigh. “I wanted it to be a surprise. He used to love those in the past, so I figured it could be fun to celebrate our anniversary this way and get away from all the stress both of us had been getting.” 

You stop talking for a moment to remember those days. Both you and Hansol had been so busy back then that you could barely spend time with each other. 

It was the exact routine every day. Having long hours in the office and since you weren’t living together, you could only keep in contact with each other through texts and calls. By the time the two of you were able to see each other, all the stress had been piling up that you were almost always arguing and fighting instead of making up for all the time you missed while being apart. 

“We were talking about moving in together but all of a sudden, we stopped discussing it and I could feel us growing further apart. I thought going away from all the stress for a while would help us get along and make up for all the fighting. Maybe we could have had a chance to talk things out and figure out what to fix.” 

You stop with a soft sigh. “We were getting bored. With work, with life, and maybe we did get bored with each other but neither of us could open up about it, much less admit it. Not even to ourselves.” 

Skye lets out a groan. “This is why I don’t do relationships,” she mutters before finishing her drink. The first glass. With the second one waiting on the table.

You give her a scoff, but smile at her comment before continuing, “He found out about the trip by chance. I was still logged in on his laptop after I borrowed it to check on my work email while I was staying over on the weekend. He accidentally opened the booking details when he was checking his email, thinking it was his account. He suspected me of planning to go with someone else, but even after I told him that the trip was for both of us, he wasn’t having it.” 

Skye leans forward when she hears this. “Wait, he’s pissed about a secret vacation?” she asks, looking unhappy and confused at the same time. You can’t really blame her. Because that is exactly how you feel about your ex’s reaction. “Why would he be? If it had been me, I would’ve been ecstatic about going.” 

“I wish I knew,” you groan, feeling just as frustrated as you had been then. “But he wasn’t just refusing to go. He started blaming me. Saying something about me holding him back or something. He said he had no time for a trip when he needed to be there and work for his promotion.” 

Thinking back to that day, remembering about the fight and the things you said to each other, you are reminded of the moment the fight left your body. Because you knew then that there was nothing left to fight over. 

“He never even brought up the fact that it was the date of our anniversary. I don’t think he even knew or remembered it,” you say with a bitter chuckle. “He broke it off, saying that he wanted to focus on his career and I would be keeping him behind. And I agreed because I knew that we’d wound up hurting each other if we’d stayed.” 

“I can understand that,” Skye gently says. The two of you share a sad smile when your eyes meet. “And you still went on that trip,” she guesses, sounding proud. She lifts her glass to you and says, “Good girl.” 

You merely shrug. “When I went to cancel the tickets for the trip, I thought it would be such a waste to throw everything away. So I decided that going solo would be a good idea and kept mine. Besides, I needed a moment to heal myself and get away from the city for a short while.” 

She laughs, agreeing with you. Then, just as she is about to say something, she suddenly stops. A knowing look comes across her gaze and she slowly gasps. “Don’t tell me—” she says, “You met someone while you were there.” 

You nod your head slowly and press your lips together. “Once again, you’re close. But that’s not exactly what happened.” Blowing out a deep breath, you slowly ask her, “Remember when I told you that I got held up for a day in transit?” 

“Yeah, I was so jealous of you that I still remember everything you told me about that trip,” she lets out a dreamy sigh, then her gaze snaps back at you. “But, it seems to me that you haven’t told me everything about the trip.” 

“No, I didn’t.” You grimace. “Anyway, that’s when I met him—” 

The memories return to you again as you share with your roommate about your encounter with the beautiful stranger. You remember vividly the way he spoke, the deep and gentle voice that he spoke to you with, and his captivating smile that made you swoon. Everything about him that made it hard for you to leave and say goodbye to him. 

You recount the way you enjoyed each other’s company that even after your terrible mood gradually became much better, and after you finished yet another drink, you simply couldn’t walk away and end the night with him so soon. You stayed longer, losing count of the time you spent with him and the drinks you had. 

“And then, one thing led to another, it just happened.” 

Skye’s eyes have grown so wide at this point, and her jaw has dropped in her surprise that she looks almost comical. “You hooked up with a stranger during your transit?” she asks you. The moment you nod your head, she switches her empty glass with the other. “I would drink to that.” 

You laugh just as she takes a hefty drink as if celebrating on your behalf. “Why do you sound so proud of me?” 

“Well,” she slowly starts, “We’ve known each other for so long. You have always been so put together, always followed the rules, and you are always so good at what you do. From school, to work, even the little things you have been doing on the side. But not when it comes to your sex life.” 

You know that she is right about everything. But it doesn’t stop you from picking up a cushion and hitting her with it. 

“Hey, you know I’m right,” she says while laughing and protecting the precious glass of wine. “Come on, you’ve never had any casual relationships or random hookups, and every chance I could have gotten to hook you up with my guy friends was gone when Hansol came into the picture.” 

Pouting, you pull the cushion back and hold it tightly in your arms. “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” you admit with a sigh. “How do you get to know me so well?” 

“That’s because I love you enough to pay attention,” she smugly says while waving her glass around, sloshing the wine everywhere. “Why do you think I’ve been so protective of you over the years?” 

You roll your eyes and hit her with the cushion one last time, making her laugh, even though she is right. For as long as you have been friends with her, she has always been like an older sister to you. Not only for coming hard like a shield against the guys you ever introduced her to but also for the trivial things that not many people would pay much attention to. 

Like reminding you to eat properly when you are stressed out or too busy with work and school. 

You feel bad for relying on her so much over the years. But you also feel grateful about it. Just like how you’re feeling right now once you notice that you’re no longer feeling as stressed as you had earlier once you’re done dumping everything to her. 

Skye’s eyes turn back to you, landing on your covered belly as she curiously asks, “Are you positively sure that Hansol wasn’t the father?” 

You slowly nod your head. As much as you wish that you were wrong, you couldn’t have been mistaken about this.

“What are the odds that it was a false positive?” you suddenly question her, while she shrugs. 

“It’s possible,” she says. “But we can get some more test kits and redo the test. Just in case. Or you could make an appointment with the doctor straight away to make sure.” 

“Right, the doctor—” You let out a soft sigh and close your eyes briefly. It has been a while since you’ve seen your physician. The last time was before—

Oh, shit. 

Your eyes snap open right then. How long ago has it been since you’ve gone to see your physician? The last time was when you went to your regular appointment for your birth control. But that felt so long ago. 

Long before the trip. 

After that appointment, and once the break-up happened, you simply threw yourself into work so much you completely forgot about everything else. And since you were newly single, getting your birth control was the last thing you had in mind at the time. 

Fuck me, you inwardly groan without saying a thing to your roommate who is busy chattering about the doctor, making appointments, and offering to take you there herself. You know that she would lecture you about safe sex like a mother hen if you ever share this with her.

But wait…he wore a condom, right? Yes, you are quite sure he did. The details are blurry when you try to remember, but you do remember protection being involved. 

Groaning to yourself, you fall back on the sofa. Your head starts spinning again when you start worrying about other things. Once you start thinking of a problem that you may have to face, another one comes to mind. 

“What am I supposed to do with this baby?”  

Skye once again raises her eyebrows at you. “I think the right question should be what do you want to do?” she asks, while you can only shake your head.

“I don’t know,” you answer with a small voice. The only thing you can think of right now is how you are going to get through this holiday while being pregnant. You are supposed to be home for Christmas in two weeks, and knowing just how crazy your family truly is, you cannot imagine how they would react if they found out you are with a child. 

You close your eyes and let out a sigh. “And my family still have no idea that I broke up with Han.” 

“For once, I’m not jealous of your life,” Skye says as she sips her wine. But she is ready for it when you fling the cushion back at her and avoid it without spilling her drink. “Don’t worry. I think they’ll catch on about your failed relationship as soon as you walk into your family home without that hunk by your side.” 

Huffing, you hug the cushion in your arms and lean back. “I guess if they’re going to find out either way, I might as well just tell them the moment I got home.” 

Besides, it might be even harder to hide the fact that you are pregnant. You might not be showing yet, but there is no possible way you could avoid the questions that may come if you are still feeling so sick right in front of your family, or if your cravings suddenly get out of hand. 

Especially if Honey is there. Despite the early signs of dementia showing on her lately, your grandmother has always been so perceptive. And there is no telling what random things she may blurt out once she has some rum in her system. 

With so many different things to think about, you almost forget one important matter that you should be thinking about when it comes to the baby. And just like always, Skye is there to remind you of it. 

“Do you remember his name?” 

You turn to Skye with wide eyes, suddenly panicking inside. You can tell that she can see it on your face and is now sharing the same feeling when she suddenly knocks back the rest of her wine and groans, “Fuck, I’m gonna need more.” 

You watch her pour more wine into her glass, hastily drinking it right after, before turning to you again. “You didn’t get his name? At least tell me that you got his number before you went separate ways.”

You bite your lips. “It’s Tae.” 

“Tae—what?” 

You shake your head. “That’s it,” you let out a frustrated sigh. “That was the only name he ever gave me.” 

“Seriously?” 

Skye is freaking out, you can tell. But you close your eyes and rest your head back, shutting everything down as she starts ranting about how she was supposed to teach you better about hooking up with strangers and keeping yourself safe. 

With her voice turning into white noise at the back of your mind, your memories return to you, taking you back to the eventful night. 

You can almost feel yourself being back there again—back in the cold hotel bar with the scent of old wood and liquor lingering in the air; the murmuring sounds of people chatting and laughing, accompanied by the sound of glasses clinking together resonating through the space around you; back to his presence that felt so strong and intense you could barely feel anything else other than him as long as you had your attention fully on him.

“What’s your name?” You remember him asking you with his voice that grew more gentle and deeper the more he drank. 

You leaned into him and giggled in response as if he just said something funny to you. “Does it really matter?” 

His soft chuckle rumbled around you. The voice was so soft, yet you could hear it clearly because of how close you were leaning into him. “I’m sure I remember being taught not to talk to strangers.” 

“Are you telling me that you’ve been a good boy for listening to what your Mom taught you?” you teased him. It was obvious how tipsy you were at this point, which may have been the reason why you were growing more confident. 

“Oh, I’ve always been a good boy,” he answered you while looking amused. He went silent right after. His gaze seemed far away just for a fleeting moment before he finally said, “My name is Tae.” 

“Tae? That’s it?” you asked, “Is that a codename or something?” You feigned a surprise gasp before you leaned into him further to whisper, “Are you secretly a spy?” 

You felt his chest rumbling when he softly laughed. “Something like that, yeah,” he said, as he played along with your joke. 

But the moment you leaned away from him, you were surprised when you got to see something in him that you couldn’t see before. His guard was down, allowing you to see the vulnerability that was buried deep under his suave and smooth talking. 

For a brief moment, he looked broken. Just like you did. 

And from the way he was hiding himself, not only under the short nickname but also from the way he was masking his emotions, you could tell that he was looking for an escape from reality. The same way you did that night. 

So you simply smiled at him, choosing not to pry further to see beyond the mask and play along. Because at the same time, you wanted to hide your broken heart and become someone else to be able to forget everything. Just for one night. 

“Then you can call me Red. It’s my special codename for tonight.” 

His grin widened. You could almost see the relief washing over him through his warm gaze when he looked at you.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you tonight,” he said, still with his gentle voice that almost felt like sin licking on your skin when he called you, “Red.” 

Two weeks later…

“Here you go,” your mother’s voice snaps you from whatever stupor you have been stuck in. When you open your eyes, a glass of ginger tea has manifested right before you. 

“Drink this,” your Mom says as she points at the drink. “It should be good for your stomach.” 

Your breath gets caught in your throat. Furrowing your brows, you keep your eyes on the drink instead of reaching for it. Thoughts of those past mornings when you and Skye spent searching through the internet to find a way to get rid of your morning sickness come through your mind. 

Does she know? Did she figure it out already? Is it really that obvious? 

You clench your hands and resist the urge to rub against your stomach. It has become a habit of yours to rub around your belly as if trying to feel the baby that is hiding inside whenever you feel agitated.

After getting the positive results through the home test kits, you had gone straight to the doctor only days before you left the city to have it checked, confirming that a baby is growing inside you. It still feels unbelievable to think about it, even after you saw it yourself with your own eyes. 

“It’s still really early, and we might not be seeing much yet, but that’s your baby,” the doctor’s voice echoes through your mind as you tighten your clenched hands, thinking back to the day you went to have an ultrasound and saw for the first time the growing fetus that was said to be viable to grow fully as a baby. 

Just like how the baby inside you has been nothing more than a blob of mass floating inside your stomach in your mind, your belly itself has yet to change shape. Even if your full awareness of the baby’s presence has only been causing you to find small changes in your body that nobody else might be able to see. 

But Mom has been pregnant before, so wouldn’t she be able to see it? Will that be possible?

“Ginger tea is good for nausea and will give you some energy boost. Your grandma always made it for me whenever I had a stomach ache. I’m sure it’ll help get rid of your nausea and your upset stomach will turn better in no time.” Your Mom stops talking and sighs. “You should’ve told me that you were sick. I wouldn’t have let you drive all the way home if I had known.” 

Ah. 

You breathe a sigh of relief. You should be thankful that she believed you when you told her about having an upset stomach from the long drive home from the city. It was the only thing that you could think of as an excuse when your Mom wondered why you hadn’t been eating well since you got back home and why you were feeling sick.

It makes you wonder why you have been feeling unwell since you got home. Just when you had purposely waited until you were well enough and had stopped throwing up when you planned for the drive. 

It’s almost as if the baby is deliberately making you sick to let everyone know about your secret.

“Thanks, Mom,” you say to your Mom as you reach for the tea, hiding your relieved sigh as you gingerly drink in small sips. 

You have lost count of how many times Skye has made you this drink specifically to stop you from vomiting in the morning before going to work. It has been helping a lot to ease your ‘sickness’, and you are feeling it calming your stomach already as the drink warms your body. 

You can feel your mother’s eyes on you, making you feel uneasy to be under her watchful gaze. “I think it might be better if you get some rest and take things easy. But are you sure you’re okay?” your Mom asks again, still worrying about you. 

You continue drinking the ginger tea slowly while pressing down your guilt. You hate lying to your Mom the most, and now you are starting to regret driving home on your own. If the baby hadn’t been the one responsible for your current sickness, then perhaps driving the long distance has been the reason why your nausea is now coming back with a vengeance.

So much for trying to not draw any suspicions. 

“I’m fine, Mom. Really,” you sigh as you place the glass down. “The tea is helping me already. I’ll feel better soon, I promise.” 

Your Mom says nothing for a moment, but the crease you see forming on her forehead says differently. “I’m not just talking about you being sick. Maybe there’s another reason why you’re feeling faint?” 

You look up at her just then. The moment you catch the pitiful look she is giving you, you finally understand what she is trying to say. 

Just as Skye predicted, it didn’t take long for your family to take notice of your solo arrival. In the past, Hansol would have joined you to visit your family for a day or two during the holidays before he would return to his family on Christmas day. So his absence was quite obvious from the get-go. 

And with the big lie that you have to hide from everyone at home, you had to at least give them one honest truth the moment they started asking. 

“We ended things a few months ago,” you admitted to your family during the first dinner you had since you got home. By that time, you had already tried to avoid the questions for long enough. Nobody has brought up about it again since then. 

Until now. 

“If you’re talking about the breakup, there’s nothing to worry about. I’m okay, Mom. It’s been months since it happened. I’ve been trying to move on.” 

In fact, you haven’t been thinking about your ex at all for a long time. Not until you brought it up to Skye and then again when your family started questioning. The only thing you have been worrying about lately is the baby growing inside you and finding a way to search for the father of the baby. 

It was the one thing that you talked about with Skye before you left. While you are capable enough to raise the baby on your own, you decided it would be the best course of action to contact the father and let him know.

In Skye’s own words, “Just in case.” 

Just in case the father would care enough to know that he has a son or a daughter coming into this world and wants to be in their life. 

“But if we fail to find him or he wants nothing to do with the baby, then we’ll deal with it on our own. You just got your promotion, I got my good pay. We can raise the baby together. You and me, just like old times.”

Skye’s words put a smile on your face. She always knows how to lift your spirit up whenever you feel like giving up, and those exact words have helped boost your confidence and made you believe that you could get through this. 

But first, you just need to get through spending this holiday with your family. 

“I know you said that. But as your Mom, I can’t help but worry. I thought you were serious and we’ll be hearing some good news about you getting married this year.” 

You resist the urge to roll your eyes. “Yeah, that’s not going to happen. Sorry, Mom,” you tease her with a bitter chuckle. You don’t bother to mention that the two of you had never once talked about marriage throughout your relationship.

Yet another sign that you overlooked. At least you never got to waste anymore time with him.

“Things just didn’t work out between us. It happens when a couple grow into two different people in the course of their relationship. Which was exactly what happened to us. Hansol wanted to focus on his career, in return, I also got the chance to focus on mine.” 

Just as you said the words, you realise that this is true for your case. 

Hansol has always been career-driven, and it has been growing stronger lately for him with the constant rise he was experiencing in his current company. And breaking up with your long-time boyfriend has allowed you to turn your focus on your job. The recent promotion you gained was a testament to your hard work to show you that there might be a silver lining to everything that has happened. 

“I suppose you’re right,” your Mom says with a smile. You are beginning to feel a bit relieved that she seems to understand. You are hoping that she would start talking about something else when she adds, “I just feel sad that it didn’t work out for you. And we were all expecting to have Hansol joining us again this year. I guess it’s too late now to let your sister know about this since she’s supposed to arrive today.” 

Stepsister. 

You lift your glass and slowly drink your tea to stop yourself from correcting her. For some reason, you feel a bit bitter having your mother mention her all so suddenly. 

It isn’t that you hate your stepsister. It’s hard to feel something so extreme when you barely had any relationship with her at all. Back when you were younger, your mother did try to get you two to get along and be friends. 

To make her happy, you tried your best to act friendly, or at least to be cordial whenever she was around, even when the only thing she showed you over the years had been nothing but contempt. 

But things changed after a drunken fit that she had last holiday season, when she got drunk and tried to make a move and openly flirted with your then-boyfriend. Even if nothing ever came out of it except for her own embarrassment, as Hansol openly rejected her and stayed away from her for the remaining time he was here, the incident still left a bad taste that made you feel bitter. 

That was when you finally decided that you would stop trying to be nice.

You put down the glass and try to remain calm. What’s done is done. All you have to do is focus on getting through this holiday before going back to the city and start with your mission to search for the baby’s father.

“What does Alia have to do with my break up?” you ask your mother, hoping that she wouldn’t bring up the drama from last year. 

“Oh, it’s nothing serious, really,” your Mom answers with a soft chuckle, “It’s just that Alia called home sometime last week, asking if she could bring someone over this Christmas. She said that she’s been seeing someone new and since she was bringing him to meet her mother, she wondered if it would be okay if she could bring him along to meet us too.” 

Your Mom sighs, looking a bit guilty when she adds, “We figured since you might bring Hansol with you, it would be okay if she has her new boyfriend along. Maybe the guys could get along and spend time together while you and Alia catch up.” 

You try to imagine you and Alia catching up like old friends or—just like what your Mom has been wishing you to be—as sisters, and you almost shake your head. 

Yeah, that seems unlikely, you bitterly wonder to yourself, yet you don’t have the heart to tell your mother that there is not much hope for you and Alia to be good friends. 

“I guess it’s a shame that Hansol isn’t here,” you simply say to your mother while you inwardly wonder just what your stepsister is really up to this year. 

“Yeah, it’s unfortunate,” your mother says with a sigh. “But I’m glad that at least both of you girls can make it home this year.” 

“Me too, Mom,” you force a smile, silently hoping that you can start talking about something else. Something that doesn’t concern your bitter stepsister coming home or bringing up any dark thoughts about your ex. “So, what are we having for dinner? Want my help in the kitchen?” 

Your question immediately puts everything into motion, drifting her attention away from your sappy story and the false hope of sisterhood that may never happen between you and your stepsister. Your Mom tries to stop you from helping out in the kitchen at first but finally gives in when you keep insisting. 

At least, this way, you can keep your mind busy enough to stop it from thinking about unnecessary thoughts the way it often does when you are alone. 

Things seem to be going on well enough at first, until your sickness returns and you have to give up trying. 

”See, I told you that you should be resting until you feel better,” your mother complains as she watches you bending over, keeping away from the stove and what is currently cooking on top of it which seems to be making you feel dizzy and sick. 

After garlic, lemon-scented air freshener, and coconut milk, seems you are going to have to add raw chicken to the list of things that may trigger your nausea.

“But then I’ll be bored like hell,” you argue, “I’m fine, Mom. Just let me take a quick break for a minute.” 

Your mother looks as if she wants to say something, but the sound of a car coming into the driveway interrupts her. Both of you turn to look out towards the living room, just in time to see your stepfather, Cliff, turning in the corner of the hall and rushing towards the front door. 

“Honey, they’re here!” he calls out, and you urge your mother to join him. 

“Go, Mom. I’ll finish things up and make sure nothing gets burned before I join you guys.”

Once your mother is out of the kitchen, you can no longer resist pressing your palm on your stomach. 

“Seriously, baby,” you whisper to the non-existent bump under your sweater, “Please take it easy, will you? I’m really struggling here, and you’re not making things easy for me. Trust me, it would be too soon for everyone to find out about you. At least wait until we can find a clue about your Dad, okay?” 

As if the baby inside you is listening, even if it is still barely full-grown at this point, your body grows calmer and the nausea slowly wanes. 

“Thank you, baby,” you whisper to your stomach once again before finally focusing on the stove and the oven, deliberately taking your time with what you do just so you can have a reason not to join the dramatic reunion happening right this minute. 

From this side of the kitchen, the front door isn’t completely visible. But you can hear everything as the door opens and your stepfather joyfully welcomes his daughter. 

Hearing his voice makes you smile. You may have had a tumultuous relationship with your stepsister, but the same cannot be said with your stepfather. Cliff has always been a great role model, and your relationship with him has always been great from the start. 

It makes you feel guilty when you think about the previous encounters where you and your stepsister simply gave each other cold shoulders or when you were met with altercations just because of how different the two of you are. But there is no helping it. Nothing has changed over the years no matter how hard you tried. Not even once you have become adults. 

You can’t even remember how it first started. And frankly, you no longer care. Last year’s incident was already enough to let you know that the sisterhood that your parents have been forcing you into was beyond saving. 

The voices coming from the front door continue for a moment longer. This time, you get to hear your mother’s voice joining in the conversation and Alia’s soft voice answering her questions. You make no effort to listen to what they are saying and tune out their voices, until your mother’s voice calls out to you. 

“______, your sister is here. Come and say hi.” 

Your mother’s words make you stop. Slowly, you turn down the heat on the stove and turn to make your way towards the front door to join the family reunion. 

“It’s stepsister,” you mutter under your breath as you drag your feet, taking your sweet time while you try to compose yourself before having to face the unwanted guests. 

As you turn around the corner, merely moments before the front door finally comes into view, you get to hear another voice speaking. The voice that you couldn’t clearly hear from the kitchen while you were tuning their conversation out. 

“I’m sorry for intruding. But thank you for having me here.” 

That voice. 

You immediately come to a halt. An uneasy feeling runs through your body when you realise that you recognise this voice and have grown to know it quite well. 

There is no mistaking it. You may not have gotten his full name on the night you met, and his face has somewhat become a faint mirage in your dreams at night whenever you are taken back to the night of your hookup.

But you cannot say the same about his voice. 

That deep and gentle voice will always be engraved in your memory. Even now, the only thing you would need to do is close your eyes and listen, and allow the voice to take you back to that specific night once more, where he used this voice to say sinful words that you could feel caressing your fragile heart while he was bringing you to the peak of pleasure.

And now you are hearing that voice here, at your home, idly chatting with your mother by the front door. 

“_______, are you coming?” your mother calls again, and you know that there is no avoiding it. You have to face reality, even if that means you must come face to face with the man who is responsible for placing you in this situation.

Tamping down the rush of nerves going through your body, you slowly march ahead. Bracing yourself as you turn around the corner and enter the living room where everyone is currently gathering in.

Your eyes fall on your stepsister first. 

Alia has always looked so vibrant and beautiful, drawing all kinds of attention from everyone in the room whenever she is present. Yet when you look at her now, there seems to be a new kind of light emerging from her. Even her smile seems brighter as she chats along with your stepfather.  

And you soon realise the reason why she is shining brightly today as you turn your gaze to look at the person standing beside her. To finally see him. 

He looks just like how you remember him. Tall and lean, with his arms and chest filling up his sweater. He has his hair falling over a part of his face, just enough of a mess that seems as if he has been running his fingers through the wavy strands. As he converses with your mother, he shows his boxy grin that seems familiar to your eyes. 

Too familiar. 

Because it looks just the same as the wide grin that was teasing and flirting with you on one eventful night at the transit hotel weeks ago. 

No. That can’t be.

The baby’s daddy is here. The man who you were planning to look for once you return to the city. 

He is here, today, appearing at the front door of your parents’ home together with your stepsister. His long fingers that had once entangled between the strands of your hair are now entwined with your stepsister’s dainty fingers. And there is no mistaking the matching couple rings that are glowing under the sunlight coming from their entwined hands. 

Before you get the chance to process what is happening, you hear him introducing himself to your stepfather, “It’s good to see you, Sir. My name is Taehyung.” 

No. 

You stifle a gasp. It feels like you have been sucker-punched right in the chest that you can barely breathe. 

Taehyung, you wonder. Tae? 

All of a sudden, you feel as if the ground beneath your feet is tilting over, slowly taking you down with it. And since you seem to have lost the ability to move your feet, the only thing you can do to stop yourself from falling is to clench your hands tightly by your side. Tight enough to feel pain as your nails are sinking into your palms, convincing you that this is not a dream. 

Yet you are still in denial as you watch the interaction happening right before your eyes. Because there is no way this is happening. There is no possible way that it is truly him. 

Please. Please don’t let it be him. 

It must have been your mind playing tricks on you. Because there is no way that he is here. Not as your stepsister’s new boyfriend. 

This must be a mistake. Yes, you are probably confused and all the thoughts of finding your baby daddy are messing up with your head, forcing you to believe that your stepsister’s new boyfriend is your mysterious baby daddy. The fact that they have the same name must have been pure coincidence. 

For once in your life, you don’t want to be right. You have to be wrong. 

Please tell me that it’s not him. 

Just then, as if life was listening to your prayers, as if life has yet to have enough of its games to play around with your heart, the man turns his gaze away from your parents. And those pretty eyes land on you. 

As if there is a switch turned, the brightness in his gaze fades. His beautiful eyes are filled with recognition. It is so subtle that you are quite sure that nobody else around you notices it, but it is enough to let you know that your memories have been right all along. 

Because those are the same eyes that you saw looking back at you with pure lust and sin while he was bringing you wanton pleasure, when you made love as if both of you had been under a spell, right on the very night that may have changed your fate forever. 

Fuck. 

Me.

At one glance, this moment would seem like any other pre-holiday family dinner. It may seem picture perfect, even—if you had been a stranger looking in. 

There are still a couple of days left until Christmas Day, yet the festive mood has already filled the room. From the living room, all the way to the dining room, Christmas decorations are already plastered across the walls and hung from the ceiling. On the dining table, the delectable meal that your mother worked hard to prepare—with your poor assistance—had been perfectly laid out. 

With Alia’s arrival today, the immediate family is now complete. Ever the charming daughter, Alia takes up the attention of everyone around her as she shares her story—about how she has been travelling between different states and some neighbouring countries, changing jobs, finding new hobbies, and even planning to adopt a new pet. 

Sitting at the head of the table, your stepfather is soaking it all in, enjoying the time he has with his daughter whom he rarely gets to see throughout the year. Your mother sits on his right, getting the front seat of their merry reunion. She would sometimes chime in, never failing to try to get you into joining their idle chat even when you are not feeling up to it. 

Other times, you would have been able to easily play along. From making cordial comments and joining with all the light jokes shared by your family, or feigning interest in anything that Alia might be sharing at the table—even when she rarely would share the same courtesy when you did the same. 

Tonight, however, it feels like a struggle for you to focus on the conversation shared at the table, let alone pretend to be interested. Not when you are busy trying your best to calm your nerves. 

You can't even embrace the same warm atmosphere that everyone seems to be sharing. 

For you, the air around feels stifling and tense. It has been this way ever since you sat down right next to your mother for dinner. Because due to the seating arrangement, the special guest of the night is now sitting right across from you at the table. 

Taehyung. 

The last person that you had ever expected to see. Not here. Certainly not at your home or sharing the same space with your parents. 

It seems surreal to meet him here like this. Even more so when he was introduced to your family as Alia’s new boyfriend.

Judging from the way he reacted when he first saw you, you can tell that he never expected something like this could ever happen. You know that he has questions, perhaps just as much as you do, yet the situation that you found yourself in right now isn’t allowing you to even show any sign that the two of you know each other or to have met before today. 

But there is something in the way he is looking at you that doesn’t sit right with you. Aside from the lingering shock you see each time your eyes accidentally meet each other, there is a look that shows a semblance of guilt, despair, and at the same time, filled with wonder. 

Was it because he never expected to see you again after that night, much less to find out that you are somehow related to the woman that he is dating? Or was there something else going through his mind? 

“This is Alia’s sister, ______,” was what your mother said when she first introduced you to him. At that point, you and Taehyung were stunned to silence, and for a brief moment, neither of you reacted. 

Thinking about it now, you can’t even remember how you managed to join your family in the living room. The moment you saw Taehyung standing there, your legs nearly gave out. It was a wonder how you managed to stop yourself from falling or tripping as you walked over to them in a state of distraught. 

“Hi, it’s good to see you,” was all that you managed to croak out of once you snapped out of it. You didn’t even give him a chance to respond when you suddenly turned your attention to your stepsister, forcing a smile on your face when you greeted her, “Hey, Alia. It’s good to see you. You seem well.” 

You can’t even remember the expression that Alia gave you when she responded to you, “Uh yeah, thanks. You too.” 

“Right. Well, I’ll let you guys settle in. I left the stove on, so—” 

That was the last thing you said before you turned away and quickly left the room, practically running away from him to hide back in the kitchen. The last thing you heard as you walked away was your mother’s voice saying something about you being her assistant of the day in the kitchen while you were feeling unwell, as if excusing you for your unmannerly attitude. 

By the time you got back in the kitchen, your hands were shaking, your heartbeat was racing so fast you could barely breathe. It took a long time for the shock to wane, and you had spent the rest of the day staying away from both of them, avoiding him entirely until you were finally called to join dinner. 

And you are still avoiding him even now, keeping your head down as much as you can and resisting the urge to look his way. As if it isn’t hard enough for you to have him sitting right in front of you, you can feel the heat of his gaze constantly following you whenever you are not looking.

He doesn’t make it so obvious, and it doesn’t seem like anyone else has noticed it yet. Perhaps you are just too hyperaware of his presence that you caught on to it so easily.

You sneak a glance at your stepsister, wondering if Alia has taken notice of her boyfriend’s wandering gaze or where he has been directing his eyes. It takes you watching the conversation between her and your parents more closely to see it. 

Because it turns out that she also has her own gaze wandering to questionable places at the same time that she isn’t paying much attention to her boyfriend. 

Each time Alia turns to regard your mother or speak to her, her gaze flickers away briefly, ever so subtly landing on the seat to your right. At the seat that Hansol would usually occupy whenever he joined you during these holiday visits. 

It is easy to catch it when you are seeing it from your angle. And it is easy to guess what is going through her head when she keeps doing it with a curious look written all over her face. An unspoken question seems to linger, while the incident from last year keeps flashing through your head when you picture Hansol being present beside you. 

Even if nobody notices her intention, you doubt that anyone would question her about it, seeing that the seat that was supposed to be left empty has been taken by someone else. 

While you are busy trying to make sense out of everything, your grandmother makes a disapproval noise with her tongue, grabbing your attention. “Are you still feeling under the weather? You’ve been drinking that boring thing the whole day,” she says, referring to the glass of iced tea that you have just put down after taking a drink from it to cool down. 

You turn to look at your dear grandmother, Honey, and smile at her. She probably hasn’t realised what a saving grace she has been for taking the unoccupied seat to your right the minute she came in for dinner. 

And she is now helping you again by drawing your attention away from the source of your dismay. Immediately, you feel better the moment you are met with Honey’s smile. 

“I’m feeling much better, actually. I’m just being careful not to drink anything that might get me sick,” you answer carefully, hoping to sound reasonable enough without making anyone question your ‘sickness’ any further. 

The more you lie to your family about it, the more guilty you feel. You don’t have much choice at the moment but to hide it just a bit longer. 

At first, you couldn’t share the news with your parents simply because you were still clueless about how you were going to find the father of the baby with only limited information you had of him. But then things only got even more complicated for you to ever come clean when he walked through the front door of your parents’ home. 

What are the odds that the man you hooked up with turns out to be the man your stepsister is currently dating? And here you are now, stuck in the same room with them while hiding a secret which may change the course of everyone’s entire life.

Yeah, miracles don’t exist. Not for me, at least.

Honey taps at your hand on the table as you grow silent, oblivious to the thoughts running through your head. “You know what you need?” she asks, whispering in a conspiring tone that she barely keeps down so that everyone at the table can still hear her voice. 

And she does it while looking at you with her wide, expecting eyes, with the barely concealed mischief written all over her face. It makes you smile, knowing where this is going. So you simply play along. 

"No, Honey. What would that be?” 

Her mischievous smile widens as she leans closer. “A hint of rum. With a few drops into that boring tea of yours, you’ll feel better in no time,” she says, lifting her hand and showing you a pinching gesture with her thumb and forefinger nearly touching each other, “Just a pinch. Or better yet, just trade your whole glass—” 

The sound of your Mom’s frustrated sigh cuts her off. “Mom, I already told you, giving her alcohol isn’t going to make her feel better. I’ve already given her some herbal tea, that should be enough until she can get a proper rest.”

“Oh, posh,” Honey says, waving her hand at your mother. “Ignore your Mom,” Honey says just as you are about to respond. “I’m telling you. Alcohol is best to cure your heartbreak,” she adds, and you certainly have no arguments against that. Alcohol might be able to help you forget. 

But, alas…

But, wait a minute. You stop and look closely at Honey. What is she talking about? 

“What do you mean?” you question her while tilting your head, wondering deep down if she had noticed something. Surely, she wouldn’t be able to tell the high tension rolling between you and Taehyung through dinner. 

Nobody else could. But you also know that if there is anyone in your family who might be able to catch on with the tension rolling between the two of you, it would be Honey. 

Once again, Honey reaches out and taps her dainty fingers on the back of your hand. “Isn’t that why you’re feeling down, peaches? I know you’re still thinking about that good for nothing—” 

Honey stops herself and bites down her smile before you can figure out what she is about to say. But you have heard enough to understand who she is referring to. 

Relief washes over you when you realise that she was talking about your ex, Hansol. She must have thought that you have been stressing over the breakup and you have been feeling unwell because of it.

Honey leans in, this time lowering her voice just enough only for you to hear. “You must’ve taken it from me. I also get a stomach bug when I’m stressed out. Just like last summer when I lost a go-stop game against the ladies from the block,” she says, before she continues blabbering about how she had made bets during the game and went all-in only to lose everything. 

“You might think that they’re nothing but small pennies used for gambling coins, but I spent a whole week collecting them. How am I supposed to replace all of them before the next game?” she continues to complain, while you laugh at her. 

Her story takes away the tension on your shoulders for a brief moment before she adds, “And then you had to come here and watch these two being all lovey-dovey with each other.” 

As Honey mentions the pair sitting across the table, waving her hand at them to make a point, your eyes are drawn towards them once more. And your gaze lands right on Alia’s hand which is now resting on top of Taehyung’s. 

Seeing this makes you feel tight in the chest. Bitterness fills your mouth which you can barely hide with a tight smile. Honey may not have been entirely correct with her assumptions, yet her comment still hits the mark somehow. 

Not about Hansol, obviously, as he is the one to occupy your mind the least. Yet she wasn’t too far off when she talked about the new pair of lovers before you. Seeing them does make you uncomfortable, miserable even, but for entirely different reasons. 

Looking away from their joined hands, your gaze meets Alia’s. She is wearing an unreadable expression on her face as she listens in to Honey’s words. And the strange look that she is giving you now is making you feel uneasy.

Just as you start wondering if Alia has noticed something, she instead asks you, “You guys broke up?” 

She throws a quick glance at Honey’s seat with a frown. For others, she might seem concerned, yet there is a look in her eyes which tells you that there is something more. “I was wondering why I haven’t seen him around. He was with us last holiday.” 

Her comment rubs you in the wrong way. You have no idea why she would care when your relationship has nothing to do with her. But you try to not let it bother you. “Yes, it’s been months now since we broke up. I only told Mom and Dad yesterday when I first got home.” 

“I see,” she says. Her voice comes out so softly that it almost comes out as a murmur. She pulls her hand back and places it on her lap. “That’s too bad. I’m sorry,” she adds while offering a small smile. And for some reason, she also seems guilty. 

Does she think it has something to do with what happened last year? 

Her words remind you of something that she said to you last year, back on the morning you confronted her after her drunken blunder which happened the night before. 

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking. I didn’t mean anything, I swear. It’s just drunk talking.” 

That incident shouldn’t be bothering you today. Yet it still makes you feel bitter when you think about it. The feeling only grows worse when you glance at Taehyung who is showing a sudden interest in this whole thing. 

“It’s fine. Sometimes things just don’t work out,” you simply repeat the same thing you said to your mother earlier while biting back the real question that is hanging right at the tip of your tongue. 

But what’s in it to you? 

No matter how curious you are to know what kind of scheme that is going through her pretty little head, you know it’s not worth all the drama that it might cause. You cannot even possibly imagine the drama that would unfold once this whole baby thing comes out.

God, just thinking about it is already making your stomach churn. Your lower abdomen suddenly feels hard and heavy. As if you have a full-size lead inside instead of a small, growing blob that is about to form into an actual living baby within a few weeks from now. 

Thinking about the baby, your eyes find the man who is behind all of this. He has grown oddly quiet while you were conversing with your stepsister and is now staring at his food with a frown on his face.

“So tell me,” you ask calmly while clenching your hands, doing your best to hide the trembles, “How did you two meet?”

This question immediately draws Taehyung’s attention. His eyes snap up, but the moment he looks at you, his face seems to grow pale and he becomes awfully nervous.

“We, uh—we used to work at the same company before Alia left to venture into other things,” he says, almost stuttering. He also keeps stealing glances at Alia, as if begging her to help him out. 

Huh, strange.

What is it about answering your simple question which makes him so nervous? 

Or perhaps…

Have they been seeing each other when the two of you hooked up? 

Fuck. 

The moment this thought crosses your mind, you suddenly feel sick. Your stomach grows heavier with anxiety. Meanwhile, Alia’s smile seems to beam brighter. 

“We didn’t work in the same division back then, but we would frequently meet during breaks and company hours. Had it been, what, a year after we last met?” Alia turns to Taehyung, who stiffly nods his head. She grabs his hand once again and looks at him lovingly as she continues, “We met again last summer by chance while I was travelling and started talking since then.” 

Last summer? But that was before—

Your head starts spinning. You grab your glass and take a couple of small sips of your tea to regain composure, yet the drink suddenly tastes bitter on your tongue. 

Honey’s voice barely registers in your brain when she responds with a hum. “Travelling in the summer? That sounds like a charming way to meet a new lover,” she says, lifting her mug to her lips as she continues marvelling at your stepsister’s story. “You must have felt some sparks when you two met. I bet you’re still feeling it now, aren’t you?”

You have no idea what she has inside that ceramic mug, as she had been nursing the same drink since even before dinner started. You can bet money that she had more than a pinch of rum dropped inside that drink of hers, seeing how talkative she is becoming. 

Oh, how you wish you could have a taste of it. Just a sip would have been good enough. Maybe it can also help to stop your hands from trembling. 

“And the ring?” Honey asks again with a teasing tone as she points at their entwined hands. “I noticed that you two are wearing matching rings. You can’t possibly be engaged already, can you?” 

Almost choking on your drink, you slowly set your glass back down and pull your hands onto your lap, hiding them from prying eyes just in time as they begin to shake.

“But it wasn’t that different back in the day,” Honey continues, “I remember that Russ—that’s my dear late husband,” she explains to Taehyung, “he bought me a cheap ring at the beginning of our relationship to show me and my parents that he was serious about courting me.” 

On any other times that Honey would speak about your late grandfather, you would always enjoy listening to every word, admiring how she would always share her story with pure love in her voice and wonder glowing in her eyes. 

But not this time. 

Ever since she pointed out the ring and started talking about your grandfather’s old promises, you start having trouble breathing. The more she speaks, the worse it gets, and now there is a ringing sound echoing in your ear that seems to be coming from different directions. 

“I still keep the ring with me, side by side with the wedding ring that doesn’t fit anymore on these wrinkly fingers of mine,” Honey keeps gushing. She raises her hands and starts wiggling her fingers to show them off, while your whole body grows tense. 

Alia shares a nervous laugh with Taehyung and waves her hand at Honey. “Oh, no…it’s actually a part of a joke that we—” 

You try to tune out the voices, the words that are being said, while clasping your hands tighter together on your lap, but the shaking doesn’t stop. Alia’s voice fades in and out beyond the loud ringing in your head as she continues to tell her story about how they started dating and the ring came to be. With everything that is going on, added with your awareness over Taehyung’s intense gaze that doesn’t seem to waver, it becomes too overwhelming that you feel as if you are slowly being swallowed into the ground beneath you. 

With a sharp gasp, you slowly push yourself out of your seat. “Excuse me, I have to—” your voice cracks as you speak. As you stand, you notice that everyone has their eyes on you, all curious to know what is happening with you. 

“_______?” you hear your mother calling you.

You can feel the blood draining from your face under all the unwanted attention, making you wish that you could just fade away right at that moment. But then your hand find its way to your stomach, and it almost feels like there is a touch of warmth forming under your palm. It helps you force a smile and gather yourself just enough to say, “I’m sorry, but I’m not feeling well, so I’m going to step out early. I hope that’s alright. You guys enjoy the rest of dinner.” 

You don’t wait for anyone’s response as you turn away, finding your escape merely moments before you get into a full-blown meltdown right in front of everyone. 

Your legs are wobbly as you walk down the hall, yet you still manage to slip into the guest bathroom downstairs. With trembling hands, you lock the door behind you, shutting yourself from the world outside. 

And that is when you fall apart, turning into a heaving mess as everything that you have been bottling up inside comes flooding out of you. 

“Breathe,” you command yourself while you fight back against your nausea. Holding onto the bathroom counter, you keep yourself and try your best to focus on controlling your breath. 

Take a slow, deep breath. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. 

Little by little, all the tension, the trembling, and the tightness in your chest begin to wane. But once everything is gone, once you begin to find calmness, your emotions seize control of you.

The next thing you know, an unstoppable flow of tears comes running down your face and you start sobbing, crying in defeat. 

“Shit. Fuck. What a mess,” you curse between each sob, feeling absolutely helpless and alone. You close your eyes, hoping that you can clear your head by doing so. Yet your mind keeps going to dark places. Constantly wondering and questioning about all of this. 

About him. 

“Did he ever mention anything that was related to his personal life that night?” you cannot help but wonder out loud. 

Only silence answers. Because you hold little to no recollection of the details from the conversation you shared with him that night. Whenever you try to remember, it always feels like there was a part of your memory that had gone missing. 

You haven’t had the slightest clue of the things you shared with him at the bar once the drinks started coming more frequently. Which is a wonder, because you are completely sure that neither of you had gotten drunk enough to experience a blackout, much less lose a memory.

At least for you, the alcohol was just enough to burn through your nerves and help build your confidence to take the lead and openly show the attraction you had for him. Even if he did end up taking back control the moment the two of you finally gave in to temptation. 

Your head starts pounding, aching the more you try to remember the missing details. Meanwhile, all the questions won’t stop coming, making it harder for you to regain a peaceful mind.

Did he ever mention having a girlfriend, or at least give any hint that he was taken? 

Was he wearing that ring on his finger when he was touching your skin under the dim light of his bedroom suite? 

You shake your head and close your eyes again when you still remember nothing. The only thing that remains in your memory is the look you saw in his gaze that night. The pitiful look that seemed to mirror yours, making you believe that he was looking for the same thing you did that night. 

An escape. A way to forget even if for a moment. 

But what if that was all just another lie? 

Your stomach churns. A sharp pain comes shooting through your body. It starts from your lower abdomen, causing you to almost double over. 

Fuck. Now what? 

Your hand instantly comes down to your stomach, pressing and rubbing gently against it until the uncomfortable ache ebbs under your touch. 

Right, I’m supposed to avoid any form of stress, you remind yourself as you recall what your doctor told you the last time you went to see her. Something about getting your blood tension rising when you are stressed, and that it wouldn’t be good for both you and the baby in the long run. Closing your eyes, you try to think of happy thoughts, all while keeping your palm pressed on your stomach.

To your surprise, rubbing your palm against the barely-there baby bump on your belly isn’t just helping you to soothe the pain away, but also to calm yourself down. 

With a sigh, you gently wipe your tears and look down. “I’m sorry for swearing so much, baby. I promise to stop doing it once you’ve grown big enough to start hearing things so you won’t learn any of it too soon. But fuck, this is too much.” 

It feels odd to speak like this to the living being growing inside you that is barely more than a piece of flesh. Yet speaking to your growing baby seems to help ease your anxiety a little. 

Better yet, it helps make you feel less alone. 

“Let’s not think any bad thoughts. Let’s not assume that your Dad is an asshole, okay? Not until we get to hear the full story,” you whisper to the tiny human growing inside you. The more you speak to it, the more it seems to be helping you to find some ease of mind. 

But even if it turns out that he was…

“Then I can deal with it later with my head held high,” you murmur to yourself in a soft, yet reassuring tone of voice. And you repeat it again, and again, almost as if you are chanting a spell which would be able to give you a boost of confidence. 

It may not immediately change the way you look at things, yet you can feel it slowly rising within you. It feels like a ray of light, the first spark of hope that you get to feel amid all the uncertainty which surrounds you.

Soon enough, the strong urge to cry no longer overcomes you. Even your hands have stopped shaking. All that you have left is exhaustion. It rolls through your body with a vengeance, and there is nothing that you want more right now other than to curl up like a ball on your bed and sleep it off. 

You raise your head to look at yourself in the mirror, and instantly a bitter laugh escapes you at what you are seeing.

Because you look like a complete mess. Your life is slowly turning into shambles, and it seems to be mocking you through your own reflection that is now staring back at you. 

“Just exactly what I need,” you whisper with a sigh.

I need to be stronger, if only for the sake of this little one in me, you tell yourself as you splash cold water at your face to wash away all the mess—the drying tears, your swollen eyes, and the skin on your face which has yet to regain its normal colours. 

It feels therapeutic to be washing everything off, leaving nothing more but your swollen eyes which you can explain as a part of your sickness. You may not be strong enough to take on the world, but at least now, you are prepared to face the reality that is waiting for you right outside of this door. 

No matter how fucking messy it is. 

Having this new revelation should be giving you a newfound credence that could push you forward. And yet there is none of that here. The only thing you are feeling now is the new bout of anxiety rolling up through your body, starting from your stomach as it churns painfully.

“Yeah, now I feel sick,” you groan as you rush to the toilet bowl, seconds away before you start dumping the small amount of food you had during dinner into waste. 

It takes a bit longer than expected before you finally find the courage to step out of the bathroom. 

Soft murmurs filter into the bathroom the moment you open the door. You can tell that the voices are coming from the living room, which means that the family has gathered there after dinner. It allows you to breathe a sigh of relief. At least this way you wouldn’t have to hide or make excuses if you have to bump into someone on your way to your bedroom.

Stepping out of the bathroom, you are relieved that nobody is around. Everyone should be in the living room, so you make haste, hoping to be able to escape before anyone notices. 

But as you turn to the next hallway, someone is standing in your way. The light is dim, yet you can easily recognise him before you get any closer. Standing with his back leaning against the wall, he has his hands tucked into his pockets and his eyes looking absently into the distance. 

As though he has been waiting for you. 

Taehyung turns when he notices you coming. Before you can start to wonder what he is doing here, a smile grows on his face.

“Hey, is everything okay? Everyone was worried,” he asks you, sounding genuinely concerned. 

The calm tone of his voice might be a bit deceiving if only you are not looking into his eyes. His gaze keeps wavering as he speaks, as if he is unable to look at you for too long. The same guilt you saw earlier is still present in his eyes. And you hate seeing it there. 

It only tells you that he has a secret that he is keeping from you. You have no idea how to feel about it. But if it has to do with his relationship with Alia, then—

“I’m fine, it’s just—” 

Your cheeks grow warm the moment you speak, feeling embarrassed at how dry your voice sounds. “It’s nothing. You heard my Mom, I’ll be better in no time.” 

You have so many things to say to him. So many questions that you would like to give him. But you are too tired to do anything. Much less to talk. As much as you can convince yourself that you are ready to face anything, now is not the right time to do it. 

So you keep your mouth shut and try to walk past him instead. Only that he isn’t letting you go that easily. 

“You know, it really is nice to see you again, Red.” 

His voice sounds so subdued that you almost miss it. You come to a halt. Your heartbeat starts picking up again. If you ever needed confirmation that the sinful night you shared with him truly happened, and that he remembered any part of it, then this is it. 

His comment which instantly brings you back to that fateful night. The nickname that he used to call you then.

You close your eyes, refusing to remember the way he managed to draw out a myriad of sensations with his voice alone. You refuse to be brought back there again. Not now, when your mind isn’t clear enough to be dealing with this. Taking a deep breath, you compose yourself just enough to face him.

Only to be met with his amused smile as he looks at you. 

“I was surprised to see you. I never would have thought that you could somehow be related to Alia.” He lets out a chuckle. It sounds empty and a bit bitter, mirroring exactly how you are feeling right now. 

Your chest feels tight, hating the way he is saying her name. Nor do you enjoy seeing the way his gaze changes when he does it. Annoyance fills your chest that you can barely speak, while he remains in his blissful ignorance as he continues talking, 

“Funny how life works, doesn’t it? I kept thinking about you after we met and wondered if we would ever see each other again. I regretted that I didn’t ask for your number before we parted ways. I didn’t even get to ask for your real name.” 

The tightness in your chest grows tenfold. 

You never admitted it before—not to yourself, and not even to Skye, when you first talked about him—yet there was some point between that night and the day you found out about the pregnancy that you spent your nights wondering if you would ever see him again. 

If there had been one thing that you regretted about that night, it would be the decision you made to leave the next morning without asking for his real name or leaving any means of contact. 

A night to escape from reality. 

That was all it meant for you at the time. So when the morning came, it was time for you to return to reality. Your reality. Your real life. And you were too busy preparing yourself to face all the hurt, the bad memories, and the stressful life that had nothing to do with the desirable woman that he brought into his bed the night before to even consider exchanging contacts with him. 

It didn’t matter if you were still riding the high of that night’s self-gratification and wanton pleasure through the rest of your trip. The moment everything ended, you simply moved on from it. Putting everything about that night to the back of your mind as you returned to your normal life and quickly fell back into your normal routine. 

Until weeks later, when life decided to fuck you over and you ended up with a baby growing inside you, and you had no way to find or contact him to inform him about it. 

“I guess it can’t be helped, given the circumstances.” Your conviction quickly melts into dread once you are reminded of the current circumstances. “It’s kinda too late now to talk about it and regret what didn’t happen, don’t you think? Seeing that you’re now dating my stepsister.” 

Taehyung winces. For a brief moment, you almost believe you can see a glimpse of hurt flickering through his gaze. And for some reason, it only pisses you off. 

So he doesn’t like being reminded of the fact that he is here for someone else? 

“Look, about Alia. I was hoping that we could talk. Maybe when all of this is done, or maybe after the holidays we can—” 

He continues talking, but you aren’t hearing anything. The questions that flooded your brain earlier come flashing back. The ringing that pained you returns. Everything lasts for a few more seconds before your mind clears out, and only one question remains. 

“Were the two of you already dating when we slept together?” 

He falls silent, taken aback. 

“No!” he immediately says, almost shouting. But he quickly reins himself before his voice would reach where everyone is and draw their attention. “Fuck, no. Is that why you’ve been sulking all through dinner?” he asks you with a hiss. He seems offended and hurt at the same time. “I’m not that kind of guy. Trust me.” 

“Sulking?” you let out an incredulous laugh. Is that how he saw it? When you were coming close to breaking apart right in front of everyone because of him? 

“How am I supposed to trust you when I barely know you? How am I supposed to know that you’re telling the truth?” you snap back at him with a hiss. “Just because we fucked it doesn’t mean that I’d magically know everything about you.” 

Again, he winces at your question. As if your words come to him like a slap on his face. He takes a deep breath and speaks more calmly in response, “Look, we should talk. Soon. I can explain everything. But not now, okay?” 

As much as you hate to admit it, or to agree with him, you decide that he is right. There are a lot of things that you need to discuss with him, and now is not the right time to do it. Not when your emotions are all over the place and when he has his girlfriend keeping him in close sight most of the time. 

“I agree. We do need to talk,” you finally agree, even though you know that both of you have different things in mind. 

You have no idea what he intends to discuss with you. The only thing that matters to you is to talk about the baby that you conceived together. And hopefully, decide what will happen next. 

“I should go,” you sigh, feeling exhausted and drained. “I need to lie down. This is too much for me to process.” 

You try to walk around him so you can continue on your way. Your head is pounding, and you have the dire need to rest in your comfortable bed, where you would be able to feel safe and hide away from all of this. 

“Wait,” Taehyung stops you before you can go too far. 

“What?” you ask him, feeling exasperated—both from the stress and from the way your body still tingles each time you hear his voice. You really need to get away from him. 

“Nothing, it’s just…” he starts, suddenly looking nervous with what he is about to say. The sound of laughter echoes from the living room, making him glance over his shoulder briefly before speaking to you with a lowered voice, “Can you do me a favour?” 

You frown at him. “What is it?” 

He looks wary, and it makes you feel uneasy in the stomach as you wait for him to speak. 

But what he says next makes you feel even worse. “Please don’t tell Alia that we’ve met before, more importantly that we hooked up that night.” 

You say nothing at first. Even if you are well aware of the situation and where Alia’s position in all of this, it still doesn’t stop the sharp pain you feel in your chest as he mentions her name, or to express his request. 

Taehyung steps closer when you remain quiet. His voice comes as a desperate whisper when he pleads with you, “Please? Can you do this for me?” 

You grit your teeth. “Fine, I won’t,” you finally say to him. But you refuse to give in that easily.

Taking a step closer to him, you point at him and demand him, “But you need to tell her.” 

He clenches his jaw as he listens to your demands, but you ignore it and continue to talk. “She needs to know—” your voice nearly wavers, because you know what would happen once everything is revealed. 

Telling your stepsister that you had slept with her boyfriend would not only be hard, but it would be ugly. 

But it would be better than keeping it a secret for much longer. Because secrets don’t always remain hidden, no matter how hard you try to keep them in the shadows. And things would even get messier once the baby comes while she is still being kept in the dark. 

It’s better to bite the bullet as soon as possible, rather than waiting and living your life in uncertainty until the day comes. 

“If you don’t, and we keep this a secret much longer, things might get messier if she somehow finds out on her own. The last thing I’d ever want is to get into any drama. Not with her,” you try to convince Taehyung, despite him looking like he would rather bolt and have nothing to do with any of this. 

After all the drama that happened last year, the last thing you need is to get involved in another. 

“I’ll tell her myself if necessary.” There is a bite in your voice when you are telling him all of this. To his credit, Taehyung—despite looking shell-shocked and cornered—seems to respect and understand your request. 

He lowers his head and nods. “Give me time. I’ll—” 

You are surprised to see him looking defeated. It makes you wonder if there is something more about their relationship that you need to know before going further. 

As Taehyung raises his head again, he seems more resolved. He looks straight into your eyes as he promises, “I’ll tell her myself once I get the chance to. I promise. But we’re going to have that talk first, and soon.” 

“It’s a promise.” You bite back the ache that suddenly pierces through your heart, seeing how he is so adamant about protecting his relationship with your stepsister. Trying not to look too deep into it and get yourself hurt further, you avoid looking into his gaze and start walking away from him. 

“Goodnight then—” you whisper to him as you turn away from him, biting back the sound of your defeat when you call his name, “Tae.” 

The moment you are within the safety of your bedroom, your knees buckle. Thankfully, you still manage to close the door and lock it behind you, once again shutting yourself from everyone to give you some moment of peace.

Although it doesn’t stop him from entering your mind in the silence that follows. 

As you lie down in your bed, curled up in a fetal position with your arms wrapped around yourself, your mind wanders back to the conversation you just had with Taehyung in the hallway. 

You can’t help it. His words keep coming back to you, and you keep finding yourself dissecting everything he said. You close your eyes, and keep telling yourself to stop. The situation that you are dealing with right now already seems absurd enough for you to waste your energy trying to understand him. 

You begin to wonder if things would have been better if you hadn’t come across each other again. Things would probably turn out differently. You may have to keep the baby’s existence a secret from him, and the truth about the father a secret from your family. 

You may have to deal with everything yourself. 

The possibility seems petrifying, but it still sounds a lot better than having to go against your stepsister. Better than causing your frail relationship to become even worse. This time, you know that this would be big enough to ruin any chance for you and your stepsister to have any kind of relationship at all. 

He was right. It’s funny how life works. If only it doesn’t have to be this hard to laugh it off. 

Stop it. 

Keeping your eyes closed, you let out a deep sigh and force yourself to think about something else. Anything. As long as you are not thinking about him. His face, his voice, the scent of his cologne, everything that belongs to him. 

Your head starts swimming. No, everything about him now belongs to someone else. 

Once again, you force yourself to start thinking of less stressful things. Like Skye’s text message from this afternoon suggesting that you could run away with her to a secluded place somewhere in Europe so that the two of you could raise the baby together. Or the little stories that Honey shared about the cute new gardener now working at her apartment complex—the complex specifically built for elders like herself—that she wanted to introduce to you the next time you come by to visit.

You regret forgetting to pick up the smoothie that your mother made for you while you were throwing up in the bathroom, all due to Taehyung’s distraction. You wonder if having the smoothie would be able to help you feel better. Picturing the drink being left attended in the kitchen, you can picture your grandmother—the sweet little mischievous angel that she is—sneaking in a few drops of rum into the smoothie when your mother isn’t looking. 

This thought makes you smile. It replaces every ugly thoughts that keep circling inside your mind and calms you down. 

Your heartbeat is no longer beating like crazy. The more you fill your head with wonderful thoughts, the sooner the uneasy feeling in your stomach begins to wane. 

And soon enough, you start drifting away to a restless sleep. 

But just like how he invaded your home with his sudden appearance, Taehyung invades your sleep once your mind is left unguarded. 

Speaking to him, albeit briefly, brings you back to that night. The moment you close your eyes, you start seeing everything from back then that you couldn’t remember in your waking hours. Even the smallest details that your conscious mind has forgotten. Everything comes crashing down on you as you toss and turn in your bed, unable to give in completely to a peaceful slumber as memories continue to flood your dreams. 

Six weeks ago…

You opened your eyes and squinted. 

The overhead lamp above your head was bright, and it was hurting your eyes. You could barely see a thing through your bleary eyes, until your gaze drifted further, looking into the dimly lit bedroom far across the foyer. 

The room looked more spacious than yours, albeit a bit messy. The massive bed looked comfortable, and there were two lounge seats set up near the windows that looked more luxurious than the ones you had in your room. 

“Your bedroom seems a lot more cozy than mine.” 

The words came out of your lips with a moan. The sound seemed foreign. Barely recognisable through your hazy mind. But there was a familiar sensation slowly rising in your body that hadn’t at all come from the alcoholic drinks you were having tonight. 

“Hmmm…You think so?”

A deep, sultry voice spoke as a pair of hot lips made their way down the side of your neck, tracing your skin with delicate kisses that made it even harder for you to think straight. 

Shivers ran down your body. Heat rolled through your chest. And it almost seemed to you that your skin was becoming even more sensitive to the touch when even the most subtle caress of his fingers was able to light up your senses. 

Right after the voice spoke to you, he suddenly switched and started kissing his way up. You blinked, and his face came into view just as he looked down at you. The beautiful face that captivated you when you first met him at the bar was presented right before your eyes. 

So close. So tempting. And his eyes were so intense that you nearly lost your breath. He smiled and leaned down, capturing your lips with a kiss. 

“You haven’t seen anything yet,” he murmured against your lips, drawing another moan out of you which snapped you from your daze. 

You sighed as you gave in to the chaste kiss he was giving you. “It’s kind of hard to look around and see anything when you have me pinned to the door.” 

He let out a soft chuckle and once again pressed his lips on yours. As if he was both pleased and amused that he got to put you in this position. When he pulled back, the look in his eyes softened. 

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t help myself. It’s all your fault for teasing me all the way here while I couldn’t allow myself to touch you with so many eyes paying attention,” he said without any hint of regret in his voice. 

“Well, forgive me because I wasn’t aware,” you taunted him back, knowing fully well what you had done to tease him until he was on the verge of breaking apart even before you reached his hotel suite. 

As much as you wanted to hold back, you were quite sure that you hadn’t gotten things wrong. You couldn’t have possibly mistaken the chemistry that kept sparking between you. And the way he kept openly staring at your body was enough to make his intention clear, as his eyes seemed more honest than the words he gave you. 

But back at the bar, you had let him be the first one to make the move. 

With his sturdy hands, he was the one who pulled your seat closer. By placing his arm on your backrest, it may have seemed as if he was marking his territory for anyone else at the hotel bar to see. Normally, something like this would’ve put you off. But there was something in the way he did it that made you feel otherwise, allowing you to give in and lean more into his warmth instead of pushing him away. 

That was when you reciprocated his actions with your own. The light and subtle touches of your fingers on his arm drew soft shudders through his body. The accidental brushes that happened when you moved against his body pushed him into wrapping his arm around you, keeping you close before he finally pulled you out of the bar. 

When you leaned close enough to whisper softly against his ear, you could feel goosebumps rising on his skin, his heartbeat escalating under your palm, and he could barely hold himself back from devouring your lips right there at the hotel lobby. Right where everyone could see you falling into pieces under your sinful desire.

By the time you were alone with him in the elevator, the tension between you just kept escalating until he finally snapped. 

He nearly dragged you across the hallway leading to his bedroom suite in his rush to get you alone. The moment he pulled you in through the door, every bit of his composure simply left him. He barely gave you a chance to catch a single glance of the suite, as he immediately pushed your body against the door and kept you there. 

Until this moment. 

His eyes grew dark after listening to your answer. His breath is still ragged after the hot kiss that he gave you once he got you pinned between his hard body and the locked door behind you. 

With his broad chest locking you in place, his hips pressing against your lower body, he left you with nowhere else to go. But this didn’t seem to be enough for him. Looking into his eyes, you could tell that he needed to see you become even more vulnerable. Almost as if he wanted to punish you for putting him on the edge. 

And he did exactly that as he slipped one hand around your neck and pulled your hair, tilting your head back so that he could continue exploring the column of your throat with his sinful lips. Instead of resisting it, you simply gave in. Arching your back to him further as he trailed kisses on your skin, your hands clutching on his jacket to hold on. 

He used his other hand to explore the rest of your body. Starting from your waist, he continued to move further down to your hips. Tracing every curve, every dent along your body with his firm fingers pressing through your thin dress. 

Just as he was about to reach the hem of your dress, he suddenly stopped and pulled back. 

“Tell me again. Are you sure this is what you want?” His voice was quiet when he asked you this. It sounded as though he was caught between convincing himself that this was happening while giving you an out for one last time before getting too deep. 

But you had gone deep. 

And you knew then that the moment you let everything happen, there was no going back from it. Everything about this was new to you; hooking up with a complete stranger while you were in the middle of nowhere, and knowing that once the night was over, both of you were going to move on with your lives. 

It felt thrilling to think about it, and the liquid courage should help you in letting go of your inhibitions. Yet you couldn’t deny the fact that you are feeling slightly nervous about jumping fully into this. 

When you failed to answer him, Tae leaned down, pressing a chaste kiss right below your ear and whispered, “Well? Talk to me. Because there is no going back from this once we begin, and I won’t let you go until you tell me what you want.” 

The way his breath tickled your ear and caressed your skin broke you out of the walls you put up. Every flicker of doubt you felt immediately melted. You brushed against him, allowing him to feel every bit of heat coursing through your body before you answered with a whisper, “Yes. I’ve never been so sure in my whole life.” 

You could feel the way his breath was caught as you pressed your palm on his chest. Pressing against him, you raised yourself up and nipped his chin with your teeth. 

“This is what I want.” 

You weren’t completely sure if you ever got to finish your sentence when all of a sudden, his lips came crashing into yours, pressing firmly as he kissed you, barely concealing his desire for more. 

The kiss unleashed your own desire. You opened your mouth for him in return, allowing him to devour you, to have a taste of your demands as he thoroughly kissed you until you were left breathless in his arms. 

His hand began to move again just then. Tracing down your hips, he pressed the tips of his fingers harder into your flesh. He made it seem as if your dress had melted into your skin with the heat of his touch that you felt completely exposed to him. And he didn’t stop until he finally found the exposed skin of your thigh. 

Your body quivered upon contact, and you could tell that he felt it too. He began stroking your skin, moving at a slow, agonising pace just to put you on the edge. 

And he easily succeeded. Already, you could barely breathe, even when he was still far from touching any part of your body that needed him the most. 

Overcame with need, your body started moving on instinct. As if his touches were controlling you as you lifted your thigh for him. His grip on your thigh tightened, helping you to keep your leg up and open yourself to him while his kiss became sloppy yet gentle as he released his hold on your hair. 

He moved his other hand down, brushing against your covered breast with a brief contact and continued trailing down. You felt him pressing at your hips, before pulling the hem of your dress upward until your lower region was completely exposed. His hand continued its travel as it climbed up your inner thigh. So you opened your legs to give him better access. A move which he appreciated with a deep hum, before you felt his thumb brushing up just an inch away from your throbbing core. 

“Should we move this someplace else? Somewhere that would be more comfortable for us?” he asked you with his lips hovering close to yours. 

It took a moment for his words to sink in. Too lost in the sensation that you were made to feel, you felt as if you were drunk and high, not from the alcohol that was no longer running wildly through your veins, but from his entire presence alone. 

All thoughts faded further as his thumb grazed across the front of your panties, finding your folds through the fabric before he pressed down, enough to give pressure on your covered clit. Sparks flew through your half-lidded eyes as pleasure came rushing through you in waves. You couldn’t stop the moan slipping out of your lips, nor the way your hips rocked into his touch to feel more. 

“So responsive,” he murmured against your neck before he planted a light kiss on your skin. “I would have loved to watch and enjoy every reaction that you would give me, every sound you make, while I have you lie down on my bed and fuck you senseless.” 

Your breath hitched and caught in your chest. Not only because of his words, but also from the way his thumb continued to rub against your covered clit. It felt sinful, yet so delectable the way he kept drawing more and more sparks and shuddering pleasure through your body.

After being deprived of such attention for quite some time, your body became more sensitive to every friction, every treatment he was giving you, and you simply wanted more. 

“Then take me there. Take me to your bed.” 

As if you had flicked a switch in his brain, his expression changed. His gaze darkened as he captured your lips with unrestrained need, yet he was careful when he picked you up, pressing you against his chest when he turned and moved to take you away from the door.

You wrapped your arms and legs around him for balance, while your lips remained locked in a deep kiss. You could feel his long stride as he began carrying you across the room. His kiss and his firm hold on your bottom cheeks were enough to draw your attention away from his clumsy footsteps, but not enough to deny you from sensing the changes happening around you.

The scent of his cologne grew thicker as he went deeper into the room, and you were getting more and more lost in him. Drowned in his heat, his kiss, and the traces that he had left behind all over his bedroom, you felt him everywhere all at once that you felt like you were being put under a spell. 

All so suddenly, you were pulled out of it when he broke away from the kiss. He laid you gently over the cold white sheets of his partly-made bed. Instead of joining you right away, he chose to pull back. His eyes seemed to glint in the dimly lit room as he took this moment to take you in. 

“Beautiful,” he murmured softly, drawing heat back to your face. 

He kept his eyes on you as he shrugged off his jacket and began peeling his shirt from his chest. Desire pulsed through your body as you watched every move he was making without ever drawing his attention away from you. 

The more you watched him, the stronger the pull that you felt towards him. Once the need to touch him took over, you reached up and tugged on his pants, hoping that you could quickly shred them off of his body. 

You barely grazed against his covered hard-on when he stopped you by catching your wrists. Like a disappointed teacher, he made a disapproval sound with his tongue. 

“Patience, Red,” he teasingly said to you as he grabbed the hem of your dress and pulled it off of you with one swift move. You fell back to the bed with a gasp, shocked to see how easy it was for him to take over until you were left with nothing more but your lacy underthings. 

The intensity you felt from his gaze made you want to wrap your arms around yourself and hide. But being half inebriated was making you slow in thoughts and movement that you couldn’t do anything but lay still. At the same time, you enjoyed the way he was looking at you, loving how he was losing himself to you the same way you did to him. 

But it was the words that he said next that further brought out your wanton needs.

“Be a good girl and stay still. I want you to stay just like this,” he said with a murmur while his eyes ran down your body, “I want you to lie on your back while you are screaming out my name.” 

If only you hadn’t been so lost for words, perhaps you would have challenged him in return. Instead, by the time every piece of his clothing was gone, you felt like you had melted further into the sheets. The raw passion you saw in his gaze and the way he was tracing his fingertips on your skin had locked you completely in place, leaving you with no other option but to surrender as he took control.

He bent down, his lips came down to your neck. Planting his kisses on your skin, he kept your attention away from his hands as he snapped off your bra and went down to pull your panties down your hips. As he dragged your panties down your bare legs, he continued his kisses further down, not stopping until he reached your heaving chest. 

You couldn’t even remember what happened to that flimsy piece of fabric that he took from you. Everything else faded as his tongue grazed across your chest, drawing a gasp out of your lips. His firm hands returned to your hips right then, holding you down while he captured your taut nipple between his teeth. 

The feeling that coursed through you was heavenly. A shooting pain came with a flare as he bit down, yet it was quickly replaced with an overwhelming feeling of pleasure when he lapped the pain away with his sinful tongue. 

“Tae—”

His body quivered against yours at the sound of your voice. He pulled away with a grin, his eyes twinkling with amusement as he watched you arching your chest as if you were chasing him. 

He ran his gaze down your body. Perusing you while silently admiring what he was seeing while he licked his lips. As if he was picturing the way you would taste. 

“Tell me how badly you want this, Red,” he taunted you with his hand reaching out to the nightstand. You vaguely saw him grabbing a condom while you were struggling to breathe. Your eyes fell on his exposed, throbbing cock, and words simply left you. 

Seeing its impressive size and girth, your entire body erupted with a pulse. It started from deep inside your core, right where you wanted to feel him the most. Astonished, you failed to remember that he was still waiting for your answer with his eyes locked on your face. 

And he made you struggle further to find words when he reached down, wrapping his long fingers around his cock and started giving himself slow, lazy strokes. You could see the bead of his pre-cum glistening under the dim lighting. It took everything in you to stop yourself from leaning forward and lapping him dry. To have a taste, before you let him devour every drop of your essence. 

“Red? Talk to me,” he spoke to you again with a curious tone in his voice. 

He knew that he wasn’t getting any attention, as your eyes were locked only at one place that was not his face, and he seemed to be curious to know what was making you so lost in thoughts. 

Instead of answering him, you continued to watch, completely transfixed by his actions, as he slowly spread his pre-cum along the length of his cock. You licked your lips, almost as if you could taste him. A barely concealed whimper slipped out of your lips when you watched him slowly roll the condom to cover himself from the tip of his cock and down to the base. 

Seeing him covered with protection seemed to snap you back to the present. Even if your pulsing need still refused to tame down. 

Resting back against the pillows, you dragged your eyes away from his impressive cock to his beautiful face. 

“I want you here. Inside me,” you finally responded to his question. Placing your palms on the underside of your thighs, you parted your legs open, making him see the mess that had been building up right between your legs while you were enjoying the show he was giving you. 

Now it was your turn to give him a show. 

Reaching between your legs, you moved your fingers to find your folds. You bit back a gasp once the tips of your fingers were met with your wet arousal. It felt slick as you moved your fingers around, parting your nether lips so he could see your swollen clit, before you moved your fingers in circles, pressing at yourself the exact same way you wished he would. 

“Please, fuck me, Tae. Fuck me good.” 

His pupils dilated at the sound of your voice, at the pleading words you were giving him. You loved the way he was reacting to you just as much as he did with you, yet you decided to push his buttons further by adding, “And then I want to hear you scream my name while you cum inside me.” 

He raised his eyebrows. “What a little brat,” he said, chuckling. “So you like to play games, hmmm?” 

You bit your bottom lip, holding back a moan that was threatening to come out when your touch inadvertently pushed against the source of your heat. “Oh, I do. Games are always fun.” 

While he continued stroking his cock at a lazy pace, he used the other hand to grab your neck. His palm fit perfectly as he wrapped it around the column of your throat, putting pressure that was not enough to choke you, yet enough to show you who was in control. 

“Then let’s play,” he groaned while he pressed you back down on the bed. “But this time, I make the rules.” 

You felt the electrifying pleasure surging through your body as he brushed your hand away and lined himself against your entrance, shutting down the circuits inside your brain for a moment and stopping you from wiggling too much beneath him just to feel more friction. 

A sharp moan was drawn from your lips as Tae slammed his full length deep inside you. The sensation that you felt from being filled by his width was so feral and explosive that you were sure you immediately experienced your orgasm right then and there. 

Your body must have been shaking, which was a response that you failed to notice as you had your senses filled with the steady pulse of pleasure pressing across the girth of his cock. He must have noticed it when he came to a halt, giving you a chance to process everything and adjust to his presence inside you.

Nothing made sense to you beyond the pulsing pleasure that you felt from your hot pussy. Your senses were filled with the sound of your racing heartbeat, the soothing touch of his fingers on your skin, and the whispers of his voice calling you back to him. 

He only managed to bring you back to the present by pressing gentle kisses on your lips, nose, and then on the rest of your face, stopping only after he kissed your lips again to draw your attention back to him. 

Your legs were quivering when you opened your eyes to see him, yet you could already tell from the way the pulses that came right where you were joined started to settle, that your body had adjusted perfectly to his size. 

But it didn’t mean that you would simply take it without sharing your thoughts. 

“You’re—big,” you complained with a soft moan when you felt him growing harder inside you. It didn’t stop you from rocking your hips, trying to feel more friction, while he merely chuckled at your words. 

“And it’s perfect for your tight pussy.” 

His words drew a gasp from you. But he didn’t pay much attention to it, as he slowly began to move. He started with a slow pace, which was torturous and agonising, forcing you to feel the delectable way his girth was brushing against your pulsing walls.��

Back and forth he went, going so deep you could almost feel him pressing up your stomach before pulling out until only the tip was buried inside you. He kept moving at the same pace, until you began to feel more desperate. Even your body was shaking with the need to feel more. 

“More—!” you whispered with a strangled moan, “go faster.” 

Hearing this, instead of doing what you were begging him to, Tae denied your plea by doing the opposite. With a wicked grin on his face, the fucker slowed down, bringing the pleasure that had been rising back down a notch. 

You opened your mouth to protest against it, and he moved his hands down your hips, stopping at your thighs where he gave you a tight grip. 

“You want more?” he asked you, his voice almost seemed to grow deeper, and you could feel a tinge of danger when he spoke. The same danger you saw coming through his gaze as he slowly brought your legs up. 

You expected him to stop once he got your legs up his shoulders. But he just kept going. And going. Until you were nearly folded with your legs almost pressed to your chest.

“Tae—!” 

It made you feel vulnerable, with nothing but your hands to use to hold on while he had full control of your body. He was still buried inside you, and this position allowed you to feel him more. As though you had grown tighter around him and he was growing bigger. His entire length and width made you feel full, as his cock was pressing tightly against your hot walls. 

“You wanted more,” he murmured as he began moving, rocking his hips slowly back and forth, going in and out of you, drawing more and more of that shuddering pleasure out of your body as he continued fucking you gently. “I’m giving you more.” 

He began increasing his pace. Going faster the more he heard you moaning in pleasure. “Lift your arms, Red. Bring them up and hold the pillows.” 

It took a moment for his words to register in your head. Your hands had been clutching tightly on his forearms and it was a struggle to let go. And he waited, tormenting you by keeping his pace much too slow to your liking until you followed his command. 

Your hands trembled as you unlatched them from his skin. You could barely feel your fingers as you dragged your hands up, as every part of your body grew more sensitive the more you opened your entire self to him. Keeping your eyes on him, you got lost in his intense gaze. 

It was then when you finally came in contact with the soft pillows above your head, and your fingers easily sank into them, latching onto them as you did when you were holding onto his arms.

“That’s it. Good girl,” he murmured gently, and you were pleasantly surprised to realise how much you loved hearing his praise. Warmth bloomed in your chest, and it easily made its way down right to your core. “Now hold on tightly and don’t let go.” 

And you did just that. Holding on tightly the way he wanted you to. 

Only once he gained complete control of your body, once you fully submitted to him, he finally fulfilled your wish. He held firmly on your thighs to keep them folded and open for him, and he began ramming his cock deep inside you. 

He was doing it faster. Harder. Sending you high in pleasure while all you could do was take his constant pounding. The only leverage you had to hold on was the tight hold you had on the pillows and the weight of his body that was pressing you down each time he pushed deeply inside you. 

The anomalous sounds coming out of both of your lips kept bouncing off the walls. Followed by the sound of flesh clashing against flesh, the slick sounds that came from right where you were joined, and the creaking sound of the bed beneath you. 

He kept going, relentless in his rough thrusts and his need to push you over the edge, until you could feel the rise of your orgasm coming in waves. The wanton pleasure that was hot and intense came rising inside you, growing rapidly with his deep thrusts until you finally succumbed to it, coming into your climax with a scream. 

“Tae, I’m coming,” you cried out to him as you fell over the edge, though you weren’t completely sure if the words coming out of your lips were as coherent as you thought they would have been. 

The sound of your pounding heartbeat seemed to drown everything away. Except that you could still hear the sound of his breathless grunts as they grew clearer, and the strangled moan that came out of him when he shouted, “That’s it, Red. Fuck, I’m coming!”

With a sharp intake of breath, he came to his climax. You felt every pulse of his release as he came inside you, and the tremble in his chest that surged through him with his deep groan as he relished the pleasure. Even after his release, he kept moving, rocking slowly and steadily until the spasms of your orgasm slowly began to wane down. 

He remained buried inside you when he gently released you from his hold. You could barely feel his lips pressing on your quivering thighs before he lowered them back on the mattress, yet his gentle fingers remained hot on your skin when he brushed up against you. 

He reached up and gently pried your fingers away from the pillows before slipping his fingers between yours. The way your fingers were entwined together felt so intimate. So unlike anything that you had ever thought about what a one-night stand would entail. 

Your body felt hot, and your muscles were lax, but there was a series of small spasms still going strong from deep inside you, coaxed by his incessant rocking. You should have been pushing him off of you, instead of embracing his weight as he lowered himself, covering your body with his own. 

“Tae—” you whimpered against his lips as he kissed you. Holding your hands in his, he continued to rock his hips. 

How he managed to remain so hard and stiff even after his climax was beyond you. He still felt thick as he moved. His cock brushed against your pulsing walls as he went in and out, awakening all sparks of pleasure that were supposed to have dwindled. 

And with how sensitive your body was, it rose and peaked so quickly and you had no power to stop it. 

“Too…much…” you cried between the strangled moans coming out of your lips, right before he swallowed them with another kiss. 

“One more,” he groaned as he picked up his pace. “Just do it one more time for me, Red.” 

You were so sensitive it was beginning to hurt, but the pleasure was also maddening that you didn’t want to stop. This time, he wasn’t holding you down so strongly, allowing you to move beneath him. So you rocked back against him, pushing up each time he was thrusting into you. It only took a couple of more strokes before the coil in your core snapped, and you were sent to another climax. 

And he joined you in your release, falling into a smaller climax of his own as you clenched tightly around him. 

He came with a deep groan. His whole body quaked against you before he finally fell on top of you. While you were trying to control your breath, his lips came brushing your neck, kissing you gently to help soothe down the shudders running through your body.

“Fuck…so perfect,” he sighed between his kisses, his voice came in and out through your senses, and the sparks you felt rushing through your body started waning as you were slowly drifting away into the night, with his words echoing in your dreams,

“You are perfect.” 

Author’s Note 2.0 | Thank you for reading so far. Any likes, kudos, comments, and feedbacks will be appreciated. The story continues in part 2.

⟶ Jingle All the Way collab masterlist | A Christmas Fix: next chapter ⇢

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[lady-ashfade]

soulmate au with percy and reader. i was thinking like reader is like a complete nobody at camp and the daughter of some not really known god. percy and reader meet by accident and they figure out they are soulmates. percy at first didn’t want anything to do with it because he had feelings for annabeth but comes around.

Percy Jackson x Fem!reader. (Soulmate au)

-£ Pictured a older version of book Percy, but imagine them staying a camp or coming late.

-£ words: 1.5 words

-£ warnings: Angst, rejection, jealousy, I love annabeth, percy being mean? Idk. Anyway kinda short. What can I say, I love a man with dark hair who has sass?🤷‍♀️

“Do you ever wonder who you’re soulmates is?” percy sat on the log near the cliff looking over the sunset. annabeth keeping her eyes on the forest below, smiling softly as the orange sun hit her skin.

“I’m not worried about it, they will come to me when the time is right.” she replied with a calm voice.

percy could help himself from looking down at her hand and slowly inching his hand near hers. the marking was just late. he knew that she was his soulmate. how could she not be after everything they went through? besides no one knew him like she did.

fate is a funny thing.

because the person who was chosen to be his, and his alone wasn’t the girl he sat next to. it was you. you barely had any contact with percy. never even spiking a word to each other and yet the world still twined you together.

looking back on it he wished he reacted in a nicer way then he did. anything other then what he did, even faint.

he was running a pile of arrows to the archery training ground when he ran into you. as soon as your eyes met the world was slow for just a second and colors shined brighter then they did. in that moment you both felt something that was more then the gods. something even the gods can’t touch.

“woah,” you whisper with your hands still held onto the arrows he was trying to give to you. his hands didn’t stop clinching onto the wood, he couldn’t believe it.

you blink at him for him to do something other then stand there and stare with a open mouth. sure this type of thing wasn’t normal but he didn’t even move a inch.

but you wished he had stayed quiet, “Look, I um..” he let go of the things you two shared and took a step back with hasted.

“I have to run.” you watched him run off like there was nothing important to keep him here.

At first you thought that he was just shy, in shock, and didn’t know what to say. but you soon figured out he wanted nothing to do with you. you followed him around and tried to talk to him at every chance you got but he would always slip from your fingers.

cornering him in the woods at night wasn’t the best idea but you had but there was not other choice. it didn’t feel good to have your soulmate avoid you.

“There is a mistake.” his voice echoed through the woods, “I feel nothing for you. I am sure you are amazing, but you are not my soulmate.”

he watched the tears pool into your eyes like the waves he controlled. taking a step back from the news from his lips that crushed your soul. “I am in love with another.”

Licking your lips you roll your eyes to try and stop the tears forming. “it’s annabeth isn’t it?” he couldn’t deny it even if he wanted to. the silence he gave when he opened his mouth but nothing came out told you everything you needed to know.

“I do hope you live a happy life,” you walked closer to him only inches away, “especially when she finds her soulmate.” you walked past him and down the dirt path back to your cabin where you broke down.

fate was twisted and cruel for giving you him.

day and night you thought about him. and day and night you got worse. everyone could see the toll of being rejected but no one new by who. not a soul knew about you and percy and you honestly liked it that way. no pity glances when they hung out together. 

soulmate depression was a serious thing and could lead one down to a never reversible illness. your eyes lost their light, no one ever saw you smile, looking as dead like as possible. every positive feeling in your body was drained out.

annabeth looked over at you at diner time as you stared at the plate in front of you, sitting at the edge of the bench. “It’s terrible,” she said and picked at her food with a fork. “I hope they come around.”

the trio stared at you in pity, one of them feeling guilt. “It’s a really bad case, I feel so bad.” Grover looked sad as he almost cried himself. love was supposed to be for real, that’s what soulmates were for! If he had one he would never let them get like that.

Percy found himself studying the girl. Her hair messy, her face grime and eyes blank and darker then the last time he looked in them. And Percy was the cause.

“Yeah,” the black hairy boy turned and poked at his food.

It has been week since then and a weight sunk in his stomach when he thought of you, which was almost every moment now. He thought about how you would smile before and how he wanted to see that again. He really thought he liked annabeth but each day that feeling went away.

Maybe he could think things over. But how could he apologize? Would you still want him?

But as Percy thought over the war in his head you moved on. Or as much as you could. there was a sickness in your body but you tried to fight it and spent time with your friends.

one boy took you in quickly. the two of you now glued at the hip and he was the only one who seemed to make you smile now.

“Dude,” Grover knocked his shoulder with his own, “What did he do to you?”

The son of Poseidon darted his eyes lowly at some boy. The way you smiled ever so sweetly like he has been wishing to see for weeks but this- This guy could cause it easily. And those small laughed he could hear so faintly in his ears.

“Nothing.” Percy stated while still glaring at the guy heavily.

the satyr nodded but lingered his eyes on his friend for a few seconds. clearly not believing him one bit.

“I have to tell you something,” he pulled his eyes away from you and to his friend. Guilt covering his face. “You know how y/n got reflected by her soulmate?” his voice shaky.

“Of course, it was hard to watch.” He answered. It didn’t take long for him to connect the dots when Percy lifted his brows as a sign. Grover gasped loudly.

“You did- Oh my god’s. How could you?” His mouth was then covered by Percy as he shh’d him.

Percy took a big breath as he held his hand over his mouth, “I’m not proud of it. It was just, I didn’t feel like we could be. I thought me and annabeth were soulmates until they came along,” he turned his eyes back to your direction to find you laughing slightly with your friends.

“I was terribly wrong.”

As much as Grover was mad at his friend he could see the guilt and regret on his face. He helped him come up with a plan, and gave him a very long lecture about love. Annabeth found out, and cursed him out. Saying that the marks don’t lie and was overly upset he could do that for her.

it took a week of long work for him to build up the courage to finally talk to you.

lucky he knew exactly where you would be. in the same stop he saw you for the first time as his soulmate. In the training grounds. You had been walking back to your cabin looking as beautiful as always even with your gloomy change.

you had a basket in your hand. you hummed quietly and kept your eyes on the dirt path underneath your feet. you were too out of it to hear him walking from behind you. “Y/n.” He called your name.

turning around startled you are met with him smiling at you. the boy who broke your heart standing there with a warm smile on his face as if he didn’t do anything wrong.

“Percy.” You whisper and step back. “I um…Do you need something?” you were shaking almost.

He got closer slowly as he got more awkward by the second, “can we talk?” you were hesitant to expect his offer but you nodded.

“I want to apologize for rejecting you. I felt horrible watching you- Well, get like this.” He kept getting closer and you didn’t know if you should run away or scream at him.

“I was wrong. You are the girl for me.” He saw the tears flood in the corner of your eyes and your lips tremble

“you think that’s enough?” you didn’t yell but he could sense the harsh tone in your voice. And you have that right.

“No, not really.” his frowns. Knowing he needed to do more.

“But I’m willing to work as hard as I need to. If you will have me?”

His green eyes filled with sorrow. the feeling to leave him here, with nothing like he did to you. But you couldn’t. You felt better in his presence as he looked at you.

“I’ll allow it, but we take this slow.” All he could do was smile again and nod his head in understanding.

even if you didn’t trust him. he healed your heart in the matter of seconds.